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fallencomrade · 6 months

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𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑪𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑻𝑶 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑯𝑨𝑫𝑶𝑾𝑺, the ghost weaves his way deeper into enemy territory, silent and imperceptible - befitting of the name his old masters bound him to. he is not accustomed to having a voice in his ear while on mission. for the most part, the soldier was left on his own after given assignment, nothing but the drone of mission orders filling the tortured space of his mind. he also typically worked alone. the rare occasions he was paired with a support team, conversation was not common. he keeps losing himself to old, engrained habits - the inertia of mission orders. admittedly, every time he hears a voice crackle through the comms, he has a moment of panic and confusion. it is only the fact that it is steve's voice breaking through that teethers him back to the present and keeps him grounded.

a small smirk stretches across his face at the BARK that snaps back at him. steve is all teeth though, no real bite. at least, not when it comes to bucky barnes. in all honesty though, he should not let this preferential treatment make him feel special in the way that it does. steve lets him get away with murder ( literally. ) he cannot allow himself to abuse such kindness and apart from ignoring some direct orders, barnes has been trying his hardest to be on his best behavior. still, he cannot hide his rebellious smile. he cannot help it ;; the captain's loaded threat feels more like a tickle than it does a whiplash.

a voice ( once lost ) tinged with just a hint of old new york jest && swagger, crackles through the radio waves. ❛ i'm tryin' to impress you with my inventiveness, rogers. ❜ a pause as he checks his corner, before advancing. ❛ we can pincer them. wilson attacks from the skies and i'll attack from below. smart, right ? ❜

@fallencomrade in response to Bucky being a dick

STEVE SCOWLS DOWN AT THE COMPUTER SCREEN. If looks could kill, Bucky's bodycam would melt and burn a little hole into his uniform. As it is, the serum gave Steve enhanced senses, super-strength and super-speed but no telekinesis, so the footage labeled BARNES shows gritty black while Bucky proceeds to be an idiot. "I will personally punish your insubordinate ass if you get yourself killed," he says into the comms. "Kinky," Sam remarks because neither of them bothered to use a private channel for their back-and-forth. Thankfully, Sam's bodycam shows what it's supposed to: the facility from above. Because someone around here bothers to listen to what Steve's saying.

Steve wonders if Bucky would have chosen to ignore him if Steve hadn't been unfit for action right now. He's sitting with his right leg in a cast in the relative security of the quinjet they landed about a kilometer away behind thick shrubbery, feeling cranky and pissed off because he's reduced to being the 'guy in the chair' that watches bodycams, tells them when they're about to walk into a trap, or turns the lights off in the facility by pushing a button or two. That's not what he was made for – neither by Dr. Erskine's serum nor his mother's womb because Sarah Rogers didn't give birth to a guy that sits on his ass while others risk their lives or at least their health.

And he should probably eat a Snickers. He's hungry.

"Tell me when to cut off the power, Barnes, or do you want everyone to see your ugly mug?"

#shieldretired #⸢ ✪ ⸥ THREADS. | 𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑎𝑐𝑘.#⸢ ✪ ⸥ VERSE. | 𝑛𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑤𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑦.

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fallencomrade · 6 months

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SEBASTIAN STAN as NICK FOWLER in The 355 (2022) | dir. Simon Kinberg

#⸢ ✪ ⸥ BEHIND THE MASK. | 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝑝𝑙𝑢𝑚.#⸢ ✪ ⸥ DOSSIER. | 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑛.

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fallencomrade · 6 months

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𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙿𝙸𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙽𝙴𝚆 𝚂𝙸𝙶𝙽𝙰𝙻 // T̷ R̷ A̷ N̷ S̷ M̷ I̷ T̷ T̷ I̷ N̷ G̷ … 𝙸𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚇𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙵𝚁𝙾𝙼 𝙰𝚁𝙲𝙷𝙸𝚅𝙴𝚂 // [ SOURCE ] 𝚄𝚂𝙴𝚁 𝙸𝙳 : A. STARR ↦ @etherealstarr

𝑯𝑬 𝑫𝑶𝑬𝑺 𝑵𝑶𝑻 𝑭𝑳𝑰𝑵𝑪𝑯 𝑾𝑯𝑬𝑵 𝑴𝑬𝑻 𝑾𝑰𝑻𝑯 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑷𝑼𝑹𝑵 𝑶𝑭 𝑯𝑬𝑹 𝑩𝑰𝑻𝑬. she tries to keep her own emotions contained - the anger, the disbelief, the pain - but just like her broken image, the inner turmoil bleeds through in her voice. the way it cracks, fractured - just like the rest of her. he does not take back his words nor does he regret sharing them - but he cannot exactly blame her either for throwing the notions back at him, incredulous and cross. it is eerie, the likeness between them ;; the number of similarities their stories share. yet, in the same breath, they are also so incredibly different.

A STATE OF CHAOS. so many witnessed the winter soldier in action and were convinced he existed and thrived in that plane of disarray, but the exact opposite was actually closer to validity. the soldier required ORDER, proven certainty. a creature of habit, he was lulled by the familiarity, simplicity and ease of deployments, the unwavering consistency of his skills, the tested fortitude of his own body, the elimination of thought, choice, or consideration. all things moved according to hydra's grand plan. surprises, unanticipated threats, failed missions, escaped targets, doubt, questions, fear - it all jeopardized the fulfillment of the mission and for the asset, the only thing that ever mattered was completing the mission. regulation, discipline, consistency - with these things, objectives could be achieved more quickly. he preformed best in a state of CONTROL - even if that sense of control was a lie. even when chaos erupted all around him, as long as it was controlled chaos - controlled and incited by himself, by hydra - it was acceptable.

so alike, but so different ... watching the phantasm before him, the hardened soldier realizes he is staring into the abyss of true chaos - and it is a realm marked by horror, anguish and throttling fear. she is driven by that fear, by the pain of the unknown, made to do terrible things in order to survive. cruel fate forced her to desperation. he was first a soldier and then a prisoner of war and then a war criminal, also forced to do questionable things in order to survive ;; in order to protect the ones he loved ;; in order to do ( what he was told ) was the right thing ... nothing is truly that black or white, good or evil, moral or immoral. see enough, live through enough and you will eventually learn this unfortunate truth.

she flickers in and out, a dozen emotions flashing before his eyes - but that which is the loudest ? pain. agony. despair. HE IS WATCHING A CATASTROPHE UNFOLD. stunning, horrifying to behold - but he cannot pull his eyes away. contrary to popular belief, he is not a monster. in fact, bucky barnes has always had a soft spot for broken things, so while his expression remains guarded and composed, his voice is surprisingly soft, kind.

❛ how can i help you ? ❜

#etherealstarr #⸢ ✪ ⸥ THREADS. | 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠.#⸢ ✪ ⸥ VERSE. | 𝑛𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑤𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑦.

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fallencomrade · 6 months

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sorry

#⸢ ✪ ⸥ TRANSMISSIONS. | ‘ 𝑠𝑎𝑙𝑣𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑑 𝑠𝑘𝑒𝑡𝑐𝘩𝑒𝑠.#⸢ 🖤 ⸥ RELATIONSHIP. | and all that could have been. ⸢ sᴛᴜᴄᴋʏ ⸥#༼♥ل͜♥༽

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fallencomrade · 6 months

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𝙸𝙽𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙽𝚂𝙼𝙸𝚂𝚂𝙸𝙾𝙽 ↦ peaky blinders sentence starters ( accepting ) 𝚂𝙾𝚄𝚁𝙲𝙴 𝚂𝚈𝚂𝚃𝙴𝙼 : @walkitoffrogers 𝙵𝚄𝙻𝙻 𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙽𝚂𝙲𝚁𝙸𝙿𝚃 // ❝ you. i’ll always and endlessly fight for you. ❞

there are not many things existing in this world powerful enough to capture a GHOST within a snare - but his words reach through the air, breaking through the realm separating the living from the dead, lassoing tightly around his throat and holding the fleeing man in place. old sentiment resonates like a passing summer storm rumbling in the distance, stirring movement within an empty cage of flesh and bone. it is gentle, far more gentle than the usual barrage of explosions and terror he typically harbors inside, and yet - in that split second, the soldier finds himself doing everything within his power not to crack by the soft tremors quivering inside him.

the shadowy silhouette pauses, the beacon at his back casting a light so grand he can feel its warmth touching his shoulders, reaching through leather and armor and scar tissue - but it also thrusts his own shadow forward - looming, magnified and monstrous. self - horror is another chain around his neck, holding him in place - and the soldier writhes against the teethers keeping him bound, seething with rebellious outrage, but the snare is strong and it keeps him rooted ( for now. ) he does not turn though, vehemently keeping his body faced away from the captain ( hiding. ) dark hair curtains his face, masking his expression. he uses it to his advantage ;; anything at his disposal to keep out of sight - remain unseen.

the specter draws in a breath and closes his eyes for a brief moment, fortifying his shaky composure. in a slow controlled exhale, he releases some of the tremors quivering inside of him, squeezing his hand into a tight fist. blood oozes through the cracks of his skin - sticky, sickly, dripping to the floor - and the nausea it stimulates has him frantically looking towards the far end of the room, his way out ...

back to the realm of the dead.

go. go now, before he sees you and drags you back into the land of the living. OR WORSE. before he gets his fingers stuck in you and you drag him into the ABYSS.

composure resets. thoughts slow and focus on his next mission objective, empty eyes mapping out his escape path. the ghost offers the man a parting sentiment, a desperate attempt to convince his tail to let him go.

❛ i don't need you to. ❜ detached. bleak. ❛ i can take care of myself. ❜

l e t m e g o ...

#walkitoffrogers #⸢ ✪ ⸥ COMMUNICATIONS. | ‘ 𝑠𝑖𝑔𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑑.#⸢ ✪ ⸥ VERSE. | 𝑣𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑜𝑟 𝑣𝑖𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑚.#⸢ ✪ ⸥ OOC. | ‘ was so excited to receive this from you! o(^∀^*)o

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fallencomrade · 6 months

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I love you so much. I know.

#⸢ 🖤 ⸥ RELATIONSHIP. | 𝑖𝑓 𝑖 𝘩𝑎𝑑 𝑎 𝘩𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 #⸢ ✪ ⸥ VERSE. | 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑙𝑦𝑛 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑑.

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fallencomrade · 6 months

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𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙿𝙸𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙽𝙴𝚆 𝚂𝙸𝙶𝙽𝙰𝙻 // T̷ R̷ A̷ N̷ S̷ M̷ I̷ T̷ T̷ I̷ N̷ G̷ … 𝙸𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚇𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙵𝚁𝙾𝙼 𝙰𝚁𝙲𝙷𝙸𝚅𝙴𝚂 // [ SOURCE ] 𝚄𝚂𝙴𝚁 𝙸𝙳 : QUINN. ↦ @haerleen

𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄. 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄. 𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑 - choose whichever h - word you so desire, but one thing james knows this woman will not be is helpful. more headache than anything. he will bet his last good arm on that certainty. james does not know the reason as to why sword wants her. if their intention is to enlist her, he will get on the wire right now and let them know that not only is that a DUMB idea but a dangerous one as well. distance - they should place as much distance between them and this... section 8 as possible, else run the risk of madness catching. he is unhinged enough. his cracked mind does not need any further encouragement.

maybe somewhere in that lunacy she has intel that sword wants to extract ? hah, good luck reaching inside that beartrap ! in these types of situations, he actually finds himself relieved that he has such poor interrogation skills. thanks to his lack of patience, brutally blunt honesty and the soldier's trigger happy tendencies, he will not be asked to question her. how fortunate he is for these small mercies and he does not even need to embellish. barely five minutes in her presence and he is practically begging her to bite her colorful tongue. deep breath barnes. get her to the extraction point and then you will be blissfully free.

oh, but she is ballsy, reaching for her weapon. in that second, the air suddenly shifts. the otherwise dispassionate ease laying dormant and bored in the man's eyes sharpens into something dangerous, provoked. the shift is instantaneous as bucky barnes - the gentleman ( or what is left of him ) - takes a backseat, pushed to the wayside by the rigid inflexibility of the trained soldier. oh miss quinzel, he did not want to treat you like a common, run - of - the - mill criminal, but now he will.

metal arm clamps down hard around her wrist, pressing bruises into flesh. a deadly warning is clear in the way he tips his head to the side, shadows overtaking the blues of his eyes. don't even think about it. none too gently, he spins her around, wrenching her arm behind her back and shoving her forward, but boy is she loud, sprouting inane comments and threats. this is the very reason why the soldier does not specialize in recovery missions. it is so much easier to simply snap a neck or fire a bullet ... that idea has him pause though, feet stumbling slightly, throat constricting with the stirrings of horror. look how accustomed he has become to the notions of murder. now, now he has come to even prefer it ?

after a beat or two, his vice grip around her lessens just enough not to bruise. james slips forward again, ashamed and prompted by the whispers of guilt. ❛ listen - just cooperate and everything will be fine, okay ? i promise you. ❜ they are the GOOD GUYS after all ... right ?

#haerleen #⸢ ✪ ⸥ THREADS. | 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑠﹖#⸢ ✪ ⸥ VERSE. | 𝑛𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑤𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑦.#⸢ ✪ ⸥ OOC. | ‘ i have no clue what's going on with tumblr #formatting and reblog is out the window #(•ิ_•ิ)?

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fallencomrade · 6 months

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He’s a ghost.

#⸢ ✪ ⸥ DOSSIER. | 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑔𝑢𝑦.#⸢ ✪ ⸥ DOSSIER. | 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑔𝘩𝑜𝑠𝑡.#⸢ ✪ ⸥ DOSSIER. | 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑤𝑒𝑎𝑝𝑜𝑛.

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fallencomrade · 6 months

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𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙿𝙸𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙽𝙴𝚆 𝚂𝙸𝙶𝙽𝙰𝙻 // T̷ R̷ A̷ N̷ S̷ M̷ I̷ T̷ T̷ I̷ N̷ G̷ … 𝙸𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚇𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙵𝚁𝙾𝙼 𝚂𝙾𝚄𝚁𝙲𝙴 𝚂𝚈𝚂𝚃𝙴𝙼. // [ SOURCE ] 𝚄𝚂𝙴𝚁 𝙸𝙳 : 𝑋𝐼𝐼𝐼. ↦ @youxmove

𝑩𝑬𝑳𝑰𝑬𝑽𝑬 𝑰𝑻 𝑶𝑹 𝑵𝑶𝑻, in spite of everything he endured, the notion of REVENGE has never been something that has interested barnes. he surprisingly did not harbor any desire for vengeance. in actuality, after his escape he had wanted nothing more than to distant himself from any and all traces of hydra. after breaking free, his only true desire was to disappear. even now, more than anything bucky is tempted by the idea of pure anonymity. unseen - unheard - unfelt. unfortunately, despite his hardest efforts, he finds himself constantly being wrenched back into the land of the living. && the longer he remains, the harder it is for him to burrow his way back into the quiet, safe realm of nonexistence.

that being said - he also does not hold it against another should they find themselves driven to find their own means of retribution. anger by betrayal, by a wrong - doing - it sits in the body of its host and builds and builds and builds, a volcano bubbling to erupt. his youth was spent wading through crime - infested streets of brooklyn and then, desperately trying to survive the trenches of war - tortured europe. there were many a - times when a young james barnes took the law into his own hands as well. he is not naïve either ;; does not view things as either black or white. nothing is that simple and sometimes, revenge can make the world a better place. sometimes putting faith in the moral high grounds of the justice system is not an option, not when the minds making those decisions are just as corrupt as the scourge they are putting an end to.

still - there is a point ... when the anger, the rage, the WRATH starts to tear at the soul and the therapeutic gratification can turn NOXIOUS. james cares not for the life of the body laying bloody at his feet, but he does find himself ... interested in hers.

❛ come on. let's get outta here. first round of drinks, on me ? ❜

#youxmove #⸢ ✪ ⸥ VERSE. | 𝑛𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑤𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑦.#⸢ ✪ ⸥ THREADS. | 𝑎 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝘩 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑣𝑒𝑑 '𝑤𝘩𝑖𝑠𝑘𝑒𝑦' 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑟.

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fallencomrade · 6 months

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CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE FIRST AVENGER (2011)

#⸢ ✪ ⸥ dossier. | 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑔𝑢𝑦.#⸢ ✪ ⸥ dossier. | 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑔𝘩𝑜𝑠𝑡.#⸢ ✪ ⸥ DOSSIER. | 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑠.#⸢ ✪ ⸥ VERSE. | 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑎𝑟.

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fallencomrade · 7 months

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𝙄𝘿 - - - ⁍ 𝙊𝙇𝘿 𝙁𝙍𝙄𝙀𝙉𝘿.

It’s chaos and the smell of gunpowder is so thick it coats the back of Steve’s throat like sludge. Makes it hard to swallow back the fear, staring into the flash of a muzzle. He knows it’s the stupidest thing he’s ever done and that’s saying something. But he wasn’t making progress. He wasn’t…he wasn’t anywhere closer to getting Bucky back and he had to do something.

The gunfire pauses and Steve doesn’t waste any time, he’s out from behind the crates he’d homerun slid behind, dashing for the jugular. Except he can’t get close enough there’s still suppressing fire coming from the rafters on the other side and there’s no way he can angle a shield throw to get to them. No use disarming himself either.

Something’s got Rumlow’s attention and while he doesn’t have the spare focus to find out what, probably a bad move that, he’s made considerable ground chasing the free space left by the distraction. Miles closer now, if he just winds back the shield and-

He tucks it in front of himself instead, folds in like a child huddled in a hidey hole when he spots a familiar shape land with the most menacing thud he’s ever heard. Plenty of that in the war.

The grenade goes off and sets his ears to ringing, head throbbing like someone’s taken a frying pan to it and he grimaces over the ridge to check the damage.

To the sight of an imposing familiar figure half hunched like he’s ready to shoulder charge his way into battle.

Steve’s heart stops. Just for a second. Just for a moment where he forgets to blink. Forgets to breathe. Forgets the world around him and the battle and-

Reality sets in. Last time he saw Bucky he gave away his only bargaining chip just to get away from him. The man won’t be happy to see him now. He’s back with his old gang, here to protect them no doubt. Fuck. He can handle Rumlow, he’ll eat the bullets until he’s got his hands around the traitors bastard throat. But he can’t handle Rumlow and Bucky. Rumlow’s no kitten and the weapon they made his best friend into…well, he’s terrifying. Ceaseless. Tireless. A perfect soldier.

“No…” Whatever Rumlow’s spewing he’s not listening. His eyes are transfixed on the Soldier. The way he…he’s not moving. The way he’s planted like a statue against… Steve drags himself to his feet, slow and steady, spins on his heels to bring that face into view. Maskless. Markless. Those eyes glued to his enemy. A common…

His heart skips a beat so violently the next feels like a dagger in his chest and the sludge at the back of his throat thickens. His world goes blurry for a second but he doesn’t have a moment to breathe. They’re taking aim again and-

His first instinct is what it has always been. Regardless of the hurt those hands can bring he’s diving forward, free arm thrown over Bucky’s shoulders and shoving him down, crouched behind the circumference of the shield thrust in front of them. The bullets fall inert as he crab walks them to the side exit, door kicked wide until they’re out of immediate fire. He can hear the bullets chipping away at brick even as he stands there, gawking like a school boy at the tanks rolling by.

“Buck-” Turns out old brick isn’t exactly bullet proof and the whine of a metal projectile bursting through the crumbling material makes him duck. No time. Later if…if there’s even a later. He’s pushing, ushering the man out of the way as the sound of whirring gears gets closer.

Steve climbs up and over the stacks of cargo, motioning his old friend to stay hidden, quiet. Rumlow wastes no time, he’s got more rounds loaded and he’s eager to use them. There’s that excessive force Steve lectured him about. Nothing holding him back now and its terrifying what he’d been hiding. How the hell had he ever passed a SHIELD psych eval?

The moment Rumlow’s in view Steve leaps, shield extended and like a guillotine he brings it crashing down over an armored head. Thighs latch on to swaying torso and he brings the shield down again. And again. And again. Until he hears whatever that helmet’s made out of crack and he sees sweat laden hair and he brings the shield down again. As hard as he can.

Rumlow crumples beneath him and Steve scrambles for his footing, one caught beneath the body, the other slipping on loose gravel. His hands flail for something solid to grab on to, hoist himself out of the dead weight trapping him as the call for back up to follow Rumlow out sounds in the death trap they’d left behind.

𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 - 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐑. carnage - conflict - war ;; this is where the soldier lives. this is where the soldier thrives. the enhancement of the serum hums in his ear, thrums through his blood, pulses through his body - a siren whispering to him and telling him where to go, how to move, when to strike. intertwined with the BRUTALITY of hydra’s training and he is a force. regardless of fatigue, withdrawal, disarray, injury - the man is compensated by the drive to PROTECT. bafflingly, it is stronger than the FEAR his masters kept him in line with for so many years. && it seems the captain ( steve ) is just as eager to protect because before the soldier can move forward to attack, a weight grips his shoulder and drags him down, behind the safety of a shield.

&& this feels familiar too... which is strange, startling. they are different people. they have to be, given what each of them have gone through, lived through, endured and suffered. they are not those same brooklyn boys preserved to memory. in their lifetimes, they have spent more time separated than they have together. they are STRANGERS - and yet ... they move together as if connected - without pause, question or hesitation ;; in such a harmonious rhythm, it is mesmerizing. the shared serum flowing though them ? maybe, although something within the man knows it is something so much more.

they crouch behind the safety of the shield and anything not caught by vibranium ricochets off a carefully angled cybernetic arm. the bullets ping loudly all around, sparks flying, but they move quickly to find better cover - two boys huddled together desperate to survive .... they have done this many times in countless ways throughout the course of history. hospital bedsides, brooklyn streets and backend alleys, frigid winters without heat, playground scuffles, drunken bar fights, deep trenches, war - torn europe, enemy territories ... barnes may not be able to recall every single memory, but he knows it is true.

steve is too damn distracted by his presence though. despite the pandemonium all around them, his sight seesaws back and forth - eyes lingering on the frame of old friend. perhaps afraid the ghost will vanish if left unnoticed for too long. it is one of the reasons though why buck had run. they are strong together, yes - a breathtaking tag - team, but steve rogers also becomes blinded in his presence. reckless. careless. stubborn. susceptible to attack. a small voice within reminds him that that is why he needs you to watch his back - but that notion is chased away by another voice who cruelly questions - but who will protect him from you ? right now, none of that matters though because rumlow is closing in and they will BOTH need protection in order to survive this onslaught. the brick wall explodes next to them, collapsing in and buck shields his face with his arm, taking cover. dust rises, ears ring and before he has a chance to recover, steve is already charging forward ( no surprise ! )

the sickening crunch of bone breaking does not cause the soldier to flinch, nor does the swell of blood that suddenly fills the air. violence, savagery, death - it no longer stirs a reaction from him. he has grown desensitized to the horror of it all. however, there is something that wriggles at his core when he sees steven rogers forced to bear such things. human hand jumps out to catch the captain’s elbow as he stumbles, pulling him back up to his feet.

the boots of a dozen men closing in tremors through the building and it incites barnes to quickly make his next move. to encourage sense back into the captain, the soldier tightens his grip around steve’s arm and jerks him back a step. with a flat voice lacking any trace of emotion, he challenges ... ❛ think you can keep up this time ? ❜ if there is a flash of playful banter which glints in the colors of those empty eyes, it is concealed just as quickly as the soldier uses his teeth to pry off the pin of his last grenade and chucks it towards the sound of incoming resistance. && then - he is off. by the time the grenade explodes, the man has already scaled the nearest cargo tank, closing the gap between him and the nearby elevated window. he swings himself from the rafter, sending himself flying feet first through the glass, and barrel - rolls his way to freedom.

he does not need to look to know steve is not far behind...

#camerica #⸢ ✪ ⸥ THREADS. | 𝑚𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟.#⸢ ✪ ⸥ VERSE. | 𝑣𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑜𝑟 𝑣𝑖𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑚.

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fallencomrade · 8 months

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#⸢ ✪ ⸥ DOSSIER. | 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑛.#⸢ ✪ ⸥ NOT WITHOUT QUEUE. | 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛.

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fallencomrade · 8 months

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𝙸 𝙳 - - - ⁍ 𝑆𝑃𝐴𝑅𝐾𝑆.

“sword makes me nervous… when you separate your defense and offense in terms of secret organizations? someone’s hiding something on purpose,” she said, shaking her head slightly. not much of her past intel or research had put sword on her radar, though. as far as she could ever tell, they were on the up and up.

which was the problem for someone like her. not finding anything didn’t mean there was nothing to find. it just meant the right people were hiding it, and after the last few years… well, she’d read all about HYDRA’s plans in the old SSR files.

thank the powers that be that the tesseract was not on this planet anymore…

“i think the term is eye-candy? i won’t pretend i keep up with those kind of terms. they change with like every damn season. saw a few threads on avengers forums last week that called all you boys ‘snacks’ and i decided that was enough internet for the day.”

she reached over for the coffee she’d been slowly consuming. “not that they were wrong, but still. i work with you guys. i know truths none of the public consciousness will know. or should know. i bet there’s some weirdos out there that don’t care that none of you wash your socks enough.”

she was teasing, a little grin creaking up the corner of her mouth.

“see? you and i get along just great. the next recon mission that requires us to scope out a mark, can we go together? i feel like we’d be great trash talking people watchers. gotta pass the time somehow.”

❛ GOOD. they should. ❜ he agrees with a nod. ❛ let them call us whatever they want. pessimists, cynics, paranoids. better to be realists than to be naïve. ❜ that is his opinion, at least. one thing they can both agree on though is that corruption runs parallel within any and all organized factions, regardless of whatever outward appearance they front. swords’ subsidiary was shield and within shield, hydra grew like a cancer. they can pretend that they have purged the bad into remission, but james has started to notice tendrils stirring beneath the surface. corruption is metastasizing, and once it starts to spread, it will spread quickly and prove FATAL.

it is not by accident that he finds himself here. surprising, maybe. the decision to SERVE yet another idealized autocracy is something he had been adamant not to do ever again. not unless the figurehead he was reporting to was steve rogers. his best friend had decided to take his leave of absence after thanos though, so how did buck find his way here ? taking orders from yet another shadow organization he does not trust ? for the first time in a long while, it is by choice. however disconcerting, he is the oldest surviving ( former ) hydra member and he spent more than half his miserable existence watching them. he more than anyone alive knows how to detect the signs of their presence, regardless of how deeply they try to embed themselves within an unsuspecting host. after a legacy of doing their bidding, he plans to spend the rest of his years making sure the serpent never sees the light of day ever again.

he will keep sword and all its members in check, hold them to their word to help not harm. && if he finds evidence of hydra or any other signs of corruption, he will uproot it before it can spread. it gives him something somewhat noble to do in his downtime, y ‘ know, in between sippin’ coffee and working on his ‘ fine ass physique ’. he smirks overtop his steaming cup and shakes his head. ❛ ugh, laundry takes so much time. ❜ words are paired with a groan and dramatic exhale. ❛ you know, i actually read that we as humans wash our clothes unnecessarily too often. it is an egregious waste of water. i’m really big on the environment these days. ❜

he shakes his head and pops a chunk of his pastry into his mouth, speaking with his mouth full. ❛ they stopped giving me recon missions after i got impatient with my last mark and blew my cover by punching the nazi - fuck in the face. ❜ he dismisses it with a shrug. ❛ but if they change their mind ? sure. as long as you bring enough coffee and three boxes of ... what d’ya call these things again ? mochi doughnuts ? ❜ he licks his lips and grins.

#hxrbingxr #⸢ ✪ ⸥ VERSE. | 𝑒𝑥𝑡𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑒.

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