What Are You Seeking ?

the city skyline loomed like a jagged promise against the night. towers rising in stark defiance to the darkness, splayed in neon and halogen lights. the unlikely pair had a clear line of sight overlooking the flashing red and blue lights and crowd of uniformed officers that poured in and out of the warehouse below. what was left of the trafficking ring—those that could still walk at least—were escorted into armored vans in cuffs.

❝  sometimes, complexity can be exhausting. ❞

she wasn't wrong. he'd been chasing down a missing persons lead, a reasonably mundane operation that had quickly turned into something else when their paths had crossed. but the exhaustion that filled her voice ran deeper than a random night of vigilante justice.

❝  so simplify it. ❞ bucky said, as if life was that easy. ❝ forget the politics, the debts. just focus on the job . . . and maybe a drink after. ❞ he added as an afterthought. // @waruins , altered carbon prompt .

for a moment, the girl looked as if she were ready to surrender. hands raised, palms forward as her pursuer slowed to a stop just outside her reach. bucky hadn't known exactly what he was going to find when he'd followed the soldiers from their safe house, he'd figured he'd tail them to whatever side hustle they were working. he'd figured out pretty quickly that it was a kidnapping job.

he recognised the look on her face when she finally spoke. defiance woven into the crack of her voice even as stray sparks of electricity rolled up the length of her forearms and tangled around her fingertips. the sparks were fleeting and if he hadn't seen something similar once before, he might have thought it was a trick of the light.

bucky had seen enough.

he dropped down from the fire escape he'd perched himself on, landing silently behind the soldier that had chased her through the streets of the city for almost six blocks. over her pursuers shoulder, he met the girls eye moments before wrapping his arm around the mans neck. the soldier didn't have time to scream, or even to fight. his eyes bulged out of his head, hands floundering for a weapon that bucky quickly snatched out of his waistband. ❝ i like your spunk, kid, ❞ bucky said conversationally as the soldier thrashed in his grip for a few futile seconds, ❝ but there's more where he came from. ❞

@wintrb0rn //> plotting-starter.

  Her run ends at the bricked cap of an old alley, escape ladders too far overhead for her to reach. The only window boarded up. The door she collides with decidedly, firmly locked. She looses several curses and turns to the mouth of the alley as her pursuer makes the corner.

  She takes a step back before she can stop herself, the heel of her shoe grinding against the end of the alley. Then she sets her feet and squares her shoulders. Tucks her chin a little, to keep her focus set and aim the nastiest glare she can get into her sharp eyes down the alley at him.

  His stance reeks soldier, even if the shaggy hair and simple clothes don't. She knows what she knows of the type. Boots and bad tempers. A willingness to throw little girls around because someone with the right number of little embroidered marks on their hat or jacket or whatever the fuck said so. It's the rules. The order. The orders. She brandishes her hands. It almost looks like surrender, fingers and palms wide, but it's a warning.

  “I'm not going back.” One way or another. A few stray sparks flicker up from her elbow and leap for oblivion from her fingertips, so fast and faint it could have been a trick of the light. “Kill me or fuck off, I'm not going back!”

                 CARRD PROMPTS HEADCANONS

#WINTRB0RN : BARNES , B.UCKY . independent  b.ucky  b.arnes  roleplay  account,  mcu  based  / 616  inspiration, before interacting please read divergences page here . formerly found at @ghststry & @rprgrmmd-a ( lost login details ) . dead dove, do not eat . h.ydra t.rash p.arty dni .

capmeme: eight quotes [2/8]

↳ "Is this a test?"

the rain had turned the alley into a maze of shallow rivers, a forensics nightmare as it swept away any evidence that might have been left behind. he'd promised his neighbor to look into their missing kid. twenty-one, barely more than a name on a grainy photo, and gone without a trace. bucky crouched beside the warehouse door, the padlock was new, but the scratches around it weren't. someone had forced their way in before.

bucky grasped the lock and it shattered like plastic in his hand. it was the smell he noticed first as he slipped inside. the air was thick with the scent of oil and metallic—machinery or blood. a single work light hummed in the far corner, illuminating a table stacked with what looked like documents and some kind of ledger. he reached for the ledger just as he heard a pair of footsteps behind him.

he froze, gloved hand hovering over the ledger as he took in the sight of the stranger at the door he'd just broken into. // @d4ughter , a semi - plotted starter .

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 .

❝ you've put a lot of thought into this. ❞ bucky said, arching a brow as he examined the menu, ❝ i just like the crunch. ❞ he remembered what it was like in his early days after hydra. remembered struggling to even recognise when his body was hungry after so many years living off of hydra's nutrient paste and protein bars, let alone what he actually enjoyed eating. ❝ most of the places i've gotten pancakes from, the center's always been undercooked. i prefer savory stuff anyway, ❞

he took a sip of his burned coffee. bitter and harsh, and all his. that was another part of this little lesson. making a simple, mundane choice and living with it even if it wasn't satisfying. one step, one action, one choice at a time until things felt right.

❝ it's not about going backwards, kara. ❞ bucky said when he lowered his cup. he leveled his gaze with hers again, eyes that had lived through over a hundred different wars, and countless other conflicts, there was a wealth of experiences hidden behind the depths and he was drawing upon it all to try and move forward. ❝ there's no going back. who you were before, that person is gone. it's about finding our who you are now . . . and apparently you're someone who thinks a lot about pancakes and waffles. ❞

kara huffed a quiet breath — not quite a laugh,  not quite disbelief.  ❝waffles are too structured, ❞ she mused,  scanning the menu with unseeing eyes.  ❝all those perfect little squares,  like they're waiting to be filled just right.  like there’s a correct way to eat them. ❞

she let the silence stretch between them,  her gaze flicking past him to the diner’s window,  where the neon glow of the city blurred against the glass.  ❝pancakes just are.  no borders,  no expectations.  you drown them in syrup,  cut into them however you want.  they don’t ask anything of you. ❞ there was something almost wistful in her voice,  as if she was talking about more than breakfast.   

her fingers skimmed the worn edge of the menu,  tracing over the plastic as if it might give her answers,  as if she could map out a new life as easily as choosing from a list of diner specials.  make something new.  she had spent so long trying to recover what had been taken from her,  as if she could stitch the past back together  &  slip into it like an old coat.  but maybe there was nothing to go back to.  maybe she had to build something from the wreckage,  from the bones of what remained.   

❝i don’t even know where to start.❞ the words came quieter,  like she was afraid of saying them too loud,  like admitting it made it real.  ❝it’s not just failing that scares me.  it’s not knowing if there’s even anything left to build.❞

 &  yet,  she had asked for pancakes.  simple,  familiar.  something warm,  something that belonged to the world of the living.  maybe that was enough.  maybe that was where it started. 

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 .

❝ now that, i don't believe, ❞ bucky said. he'd never really had the eye of a creative, he couldn't write or draw or mold things into something new and extraordinary, creation had never been his wheelhouse. ❝ you should try it out again. ❞

bucky studied the abandoned library as it towered over them. worn and shabby, neglected by the city and easily overlooked in the endless repetition of the day to day. there were many like it scattered all over, foreclosed, forgotten, lost. ❝ then you might like the velveteen rabbit, ❞ he said.

for a moment he lingered outside, eyes flicking up the ruined façade of the library before settling on her silhouette in the doorway. the way she touched the metal—like it meant something—made his jaw tighten. he'd spent too many years breaking into places like this, never invited, never looking for anything as simple as a book.

❝ we gonna take bets on who finds the best reading material? ❞ he asked as he followed her. inside, the air was thick—paper dust, mildew, and the ghost of old knowledge left to decay. it smelt of wet wood and something faintly metallic.

kara let out a breath that was almost a laugh,  quiet  &  fleeting,  as if it had slipped past her defenses before she could stop it.  ❝i tried,❞ she admitted,  tilting her head slightly as they walked.  ❝nothing worth remembering. ❞ a lie,  maybe.  or maybe just a truth she hadn’t quite decided how to hold.  words had once come easily,  before they were twisted,  before she learned that even language could be taken,  repurposed,  rewritten until she could no longer trust the sound of her own voice.  but she liked the thought of it — him,  a soldier at war with the world,  holding onto stories like they might ground him.   

the library loomed ahead,  dark  &  forgotten,  waiting like a relic of another time.  she glanced at him then,  watching the way the past played behind his eyes,  flickering like old film,  something just out of reach.  ❝ tree grows in brooklyn,❞ she mused,  her voice softer now.  ❝that one makes sense.❞ a story about survival,  about finding something worth holding onto in a world that never made it easy.  ❝i always liked the ones about lost things, ❞ she admitted,  as if that,  too,  explained something.   

she hesitated at the door,  fingers brushing against worn metal before she pushed it open,  the scent of old paper  &  dust greeting them like an old friend.  ❝come on,❞ she said,  her voice lighter now,  an invitation rather than an instruction.  ❝let’s see if we can find something worth reading. ❞ there was something in the quiet of the place,  in the ease of conversation that had found its own rhythm between them,  that almost felt like a reprieve.  maybe even something close to peace.