The Engine Ticks As He Killed It, Too Loud In A Place Where Things Came To Die. She Was Already Halfway

the nights in gotham weren't just dark—they drowned in shadow, swallowing men whole and leaving nothing but a cold whisper behind. he'd worked in cities like gotham before—berlin, moscow, madripoor—but gotham was something else. a different kind of beast with different kind of monsters.

he moved through the warehouse like a ghost, boots silent against concrete, a black silhouette against the night. hydra had been quick to use gotham as their backdrop, smuggling weapons, money, and other nastier things and he had no intention of letting them remain.

the floor is a maze of steel crates, some marked with shell corporation insignias, others left blank and unidentifiable. overhead, a single flickering bulb swung slightly, casting long, jagged shadows, and that was when he saw it.

a man, swinging from the rafters by his ankles. he hadn't done that. footsteps to his left alert him to a patrolling agent and bucky slipped quickly around one of the steel crates, raising to his full height to wrap his arm around the agent's and cut the weapon from his body in a single motion. he took him down quietly, but the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. a warning that he wasn't alone. // @bruz3r , a semi - plotted starter .

what are you seeking ?

—  forgiveness  .

“what  should  i  apologize  for;  what  i  am  or  what  i’m  not?”  //  oh,  little  hero,  how  close  are  you  to  crumbling  under  the  weight  on  your  shoulders?  how  heavy  has  that  heart  of  yours  gotten?  how  deeply  has  the  guilt  burrowed  into  your  bones?  how  permanently  has  the  grief  been  seared  into  your  soul?

you  were  so  tender,  and  the  world  so  cruel.  loss  after  loss  after  loss,  each  another  chip  on  your  shoulder.  because  you  deserved  it,  didn’t  you?  if  you  could  be  better . . . faster . . . stronger . . . smarter . . . then  maybe  it  wouldn’t  have  happened.  right?  the  blood  stains  your  hands,  and  it  won’t  wash  out  will  it?

but  darling,  it’s  never  been  your  fault.  you’ve  learned  to  turn  the  rage  and  the  regret,  the  guilt  and  the  grief,  inwards.  if  you’re  hurt,  it’s  your  own  fault  isn’t  it?  because  then  there’s  a  reason  for  it,  because  it  gives  you  some  semblance  of  control,  doesn’t  it?  what  you  seek  is  forgiveness,  for  your  perceived  wrongs.  but  oh,  little  skeleton,  you  do  not  need  it.  stop  blaming  yourself  for  what  was  beyond  your  control.  let  go  of  the  past.  grow.  and  learn  to  breathe  with  both  of  your  lungs.  stop  choking  on  your  own  self  hatred.  the  weight  will  ease,  i  promise.  i  love  you.

tagged by : nada tagging : @staticveil , @sh1elded , @tcbefearless ( amelia ), @deathcrime & you <3

it was easier to be present when the city's heartbeat pounded all around them. the distant call of sirens, the buzzing of florescent lights, the rolling of engines and other strangers burning the midnight oil. the city always felt somehow more real at night. or at the very least, bucky felt comfortable occupying the spaces of the city at night. bucky tipped his head to one side, curious as she asked incredulously if he thought that their night-time book club was a one time deal.

he watched her out of the corner of his eye. beside him at first, slipping easily into place as if they had done this a hundred times before, then slightly ahead. there was an intensity to the way she spoke and the way she moved that gave away how determined she was to make this into a habit. it was . . . unexpected, but not unwelcome.

❝ you'd be right about that, ❞ bucky said carefully, ❝ feels wrong not to finish something you've started, no matter what it is. ❞ he smiled when she flashed him a daring smile, all sharpened edges and intense eyes. ❝ you talk a big game, palamas, but i've got stamina. you're the one who's gonna need a nap between chapters. ❞

kara stepped out first,  the hush of the abandoned library fading as the pulse of the city greeted them — distant sirens,  the occasional murmur of voices carried on the wind.  she cradled pride  &  prejudice against her ribs like a secret worth keeping,  letting the weight of it settle as she glanced toward him,  eyes sharp,  knowing.  ❝oh,  you think this is just a one-time thing?❞ she mused,  the corner of her mouth curving as she slipped into step beside him,  easy as breathing.  the night stretched before them,  quiet  &  endless,   &  she had already decided — this wasn’t just a single evening’s indulgence,  a fleeting moment swallowed by the city’s restless hunger.   

she moved ahead,  just enough to make him follow,  her voice drifting back to him like the echo of something inevitable.  ❝two books,  barnes,❞ she reminded him,  tapping pride  &  prejudice against the spine of a tree grows in brooklyn where it still hid in his pocket.  ❝that’s at least a couple of nights.   &  i don’t think either of us are the type to leave a story unfinished. ❞ the words carried a weight beneath the teasing,  something unspoken yet understood.  they had both left too much behind,  too many pages torn out,  too many endings they never got to choose.  maybe this,  small as it was,  could be different.   

she shot him a look over her shoulder,  dark eyes glinting with challenge,  with invitation.  ❝better pace yourself, ❞ she warned,  all playful arrogance now,  half-daring,  half-taunting.  ❝wouldn’t want you losing steam before we even get to the good parts. ❞ then she turned back ahead,  leading him toward the rooftop,  the city’s glow stretching out before them like a world of stories waiting to be told. 

the body slumped against the wall, a smear of red streaking down cracked concrete while the sound of the gunshot rang in his ears. he watched her, silent, the dim light catching the steel of his arm as he stepped forward. her grip on the gun was tight—too tight. knuckles white, hands shaking, but not from fear. from something colder. something deeper.

❝ i thought it would give me a moment of peace. ❞

bucky clenched his jaw together tightly and reached out, slow, deliberate. his fingers brushed the side of the weapon, testing for resistance, and then he pried the gun from her hands. ❝ it's done. ❞ he said, because what else was there? he'd been where she was, he'd done what she'd done ten times over and even now, knowing what he knew, he'd do it again. // @staticveil , altered carbon prompts .

the soldier's expression shifted, a hard edge to the way the corners of his mouth tightened as she gave voice to things he'd only ever kept in his head. he felt uncomfortably exposed, as if she were pulling things from his own head, kicking and screaming, into the dim light of the old bulb above their heads.

❝ you know that i do. ❞ he said. ❝ i go every day asking the same things you do. is this the real me, or is it the thing they made me into? will i ever know? is any of this real or is it a dream? did i really do those things? was it even me if i can't say for sure? ❞ there was no easy answer.

❝ if you play that game of what if's, you'll lose every time. ❞ bucky said with the same unconscious resignation reflected in her face. he had nothing to offer her. no answers or absolution, no wise teachings to cure her of her doubts. only the cold hard truth of survival. ❝ you learn to live with it. ❞ it wasn't what she wanted to hear, he knew, because he didn't want to hear it either. no one wanted to be told that they would have to live with the doubt the rest of their lives, that there was no digging it out, no killing it, only enduring.

❝ and if it gets too heavy . . . at least you're not carrying it alone. ❞ quite the pair they made. maybe if they stuck their broken pieces together they'd be able to make a whole and functional person.

the words landed with a weight that settled somewhere deep,  pressing against the places she had spent years trying to bury.  it would have been easier if he had argued,  if he had given her the sharp edge of disbelief,  something solid she could push back against.  but she knew better — he didn’t deal in false comforts.  he had no need for excuses,  & it seemed no interest in dressing wounds that would never fully close.  

kara exhaled slowly,  a breath that felt more like surrender than relief.  ❝then you know what it’s like to wake up  &  not be sure if the thoughts in your head are yours.  to second-guess every action,  every instinct,  because there’s always that whisper — maybe this isn’t me,  maybe this is what they left behind. ❞ her voice was steady,  but there was something beneath it,  something brittle.  ❝ &  the worst part? even when you fight your way back,  even when you know it’s over,  it never really is.  because what if they were right? what if it wasn’t all forced? what if — ❞ she stopped herself,  jaw tightening.  that was the thought she never spoke aloud.  the one that lingered in the quiet spaces,  in the dead hours of the night when there was no mission to focus on,  no objective to drown in.   

she looked at him then,  really looked,   &  she for a second it was as if she could see it — the same question buried in the sharp lines of his face,  the tension in his shoulders.  like he understood.  not in theory,  not in sympathy,  but in a way that only someone who had lived it could.  ❝so tell me, ❞ she said,  quieter now,  but no less steady.  ❝what do you do with it? the knowing? the weight of it? because i’ve read every philosophy,  every myth,  every self-help book,   &  none of them have an answer that doesn’t feel like a lie. ❞

@whumpril | Day #3: Sore Captain America: Civil War (2016)

HEADCANON : war letters , 1 / ?

Dear Home : The Lost Letters of Sgt. James Barnes

Discovered decades after World War II, these letters—written by Sgt. James Buchanan Barnes—offer a rare and intimate glimpse into the heart of a soldier. Though history remembers Bucky Barnes as war hero, these letters remind us that before the legend, there was a young man writing to the people he loved. This collection invites you to read not just history, but memory.

March 18th, Somewhere Sandy

Dear Becca,

First things first: yes, I'm alive. Yes, I still have my limbs. No, I haven't run off to join a Bedouin circus. I'm writing by lantern light with sand in just about everything—my boots, my rucksack, even this envelope. If it gets there looking worse for wear, consider it a souvenir from my time on the front.

We've been pushing through a lot of desert these past weeks. It's dry, endless, and hot as hell, but the stars at night more than make up for it. You wouldn't believe how clear the sky gets out here. The boys in my unit are solid. Tough as nails, loyal to a fault. There's a kid from Kansas who swears up and down he can fix anything. I told him he ought to start with the coffee—it tastes like it lost a war of its own, probably with a boiled boot.

How are things back home? Don't let Mrs. Kaminsky rope you into babysitting that howling menance of hers again. You're too polite to say no, and she knows it. Keep up with your schoolwork, even if it's dull.

Take care of yourself, and check in with Steve for me.

All my love, James

P.S. If you must send cookies, no raisins. That's not a cookie—it's a betrayal.

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.

❝ i think we've found enough books for one night, ❞ bucky said, ❝ we can always come back. this place doesn't look like it's going anywhere anytime soon. ❞ he added. her second option had bucky releasing a breath that wasn't quite a laugh but had the shape of one, something easy, something light.

❝ reckless, huh? ❞ the word rolled past his lips with ease. he leaned in just a fraction, a movement that wasn't meant to intimidate, but to tease.

❝ you want me to read to you, palamas? ❞ his voice was low, edged with something almost smug, but warm all the same. the tease came almost effortlessly, easier than it should've. a year ago, hell, even a few months ago, he would've let the silence settle there, but not now.

❝ if we're gonna do this, you should know—i don't do voices. ❞

kara watched the way his fingers curled around the book,  the deliberate care of it.  like he was holding something fragile,  something that mattered.   &  maybe it did.  maybe it was more than paper  &  ink,  more than a story — it was a bridge,  a tether to a past that hadn’t been entirely stolen.  she didn’t say anything,  just let the silence stretch,  let him have the moment.  some things didn’t need words.   

but when he looked at her,  something different flickered in his expression — lighter,  a ghost of something unburdened.  it made her chest ache,  just a little,  the way it always did when she caught glimpses of what could have been,  what still might be.  he tucked the book into his pocket,   &  she tilted her head,  considering his challenge.   

❝next adventure … right,❞ she exhaled a quiet laugh,  glancing around at the hollowed-out remains of forgotten stories.  ❝well,  we could always stick around,  find the weirdest book title in the place. ❞ her gaze flickered back to his,  something warm beneath the teasing.  ❝or i know a rooftop,  one of those places no one’s supposed to go but everyone does anyway.  good view,  bad idea.  but we could read there,  if you’re feeling reckless.❞

tag dump .

.     connection .     ›     scott lang .

.     connection .     ›     james rhodes .

.     connection .     ›     wanda maximoff .

.     connection .     ›     vision .

.     connection .     ›     sharon carter .

.     connection .     ›     tony stark .

.     connection .     ›     sarah wilson .

.     connection .     ›     yelena belova .

.     connection .     ›     alexei shostakov .