HEADCANON : Relationship With Violence .

❝ 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. 

im actually so tired of fixing other people's problems while my problems are like gnawing on my bones

INJURIES + AID.

a collection of prompts in which sender comes to receiver for help with an injury, focusing on trust, vulnerability, and a little bit of embarrassment! various situations included, cw for injuries, implied self harm, and nsfw content!

add +reverse as needed, or specify extra details! in no particular order:

[ 01 ] sender comes to receiver with a wound they have been keeping secret and has become infected.

[ 02 ] sender comes to receiver for help with a wound they swore they could take care of alone.

[ 03 ] sender comes to receiver with an unrelated injury but happens to be covered in marks from a recent sexual encounter.

[ 04 ] sender comes to receiver with an injury they got during sex.

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

[ 06 ] sender comes to receiver with an self-inflicted injury from unwise sword/bow/weapons practice.

[ 07 ] sender comes to receiver with a self-inflicted injury from a silly domestic (cleaning/cooking etc) accident.

[ 08 ] sender comes to receiver with a self-inflicted injury for which they provide no excuse.

[ 09 ] sender comes to receiver with an injury in a location they cannot easily reach.

[ 10 ] sender comes to receiver with an injury they do not remember getting.

[ 11 ] sender comes to receiver with an aggravated old injury they knew they needed to be careful of.

[ 12 ] sender comes to receiver having re-opened a healing wound.

[ 13 ] sender comes to receiver having ruined the dressing of a recent wound.

[ 14 ] sender comes to receiver with an injury in a sensitive/intimate location.

[ 15 ] sender comes to receiver with an injury in a location that reveals an embarrassing/secret tattoo.

[ 16 ] sender comes to receiver with an injury in a location that reveals scars that are not usually seen.

[ 17 ] sender comes to receiver with a problem that reveals an old injury they need to explain.

[ 18 ] sender comes to receiver with a problem they have had before, but has been previously shoddily cared for.

[ 19 ] sender comes to receiver with an injury they're sure was a deliberate attack on them, though they have no evidence.

[ 20 ] sender comes to receiver needing care for a recent tattoo.

[ 21 ] sender comes to receiver needing care for a recent piercing.

[ 22 ] sender comes to receiver needing care for another recent body modification.

[ 23 ] sender comes to receiver with an injury that has been inflicted upon them as punishment.

[ 24 ] sender comes to receiver with a long-term injury they've finally decided to address.

[ 25 ] sender comes to receiver with an injury that reveals a long-kept secret.

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 .

❝ 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.❞

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!”

something in his chest seemed to kick like a live wire when she laughed. it had a dangerous kind of confidence to it, like the click of a safety coming off. not loud, or boastful, just certain. he kept his pace even, boots quiet against the concrete, watching her silhouette glide ahead throught the gloom.

❝ outta the two of us? absolutely. ❞ he said. she tossed him a sidelong glance, all mischief and challenge, and he felt it again—that flicker. rooftop jobs usually meant snipers, extraction points, high-value targets. now it was books, and banter. she cradled the books to her like they were the blueprints to a softer world and when she said don't you dare skim, it sounded like a threat, but felt a lot like trust.

❝ i've fallen from higher, ❞ bucky remarked dryly, the easy grin on his lips softening his dark humour into something congestible. he followed her up the ladder, jacket fabric straining against his metal arm as it pinched between plates but otherwise, the climb was easy enough. and she wasn't wrong. the view was beautiful. the city skyline illuminated by flickering lights like bathed starlight.

kara’s laugh came quiet but sure,  a slip of silver in the dark,  like the glint of a blade catching moonlight.  she didn’t look at him right away — just kept walking,  steady  &  certain,  gaze lifted toward the rooftop’s outline ahead like she was chasing constellations only she could see.  ❝you think i’m the one who’s gonna tap out?❞ she asked,  feigning disbelief with a lift of her brow.  ❝bold of you.  i don’t start things i don’t intend to finish,  barnes. ❞

she let the moment stretch before cutting a sidelong glance his way,  that teasing curve curling at the edge of her lips.  ❝but i’ll let you have your illusions — for morale,❞ she added,  dry,  theatrical.  the books in her arms shifted as she adjusted her grip,  fingertips brushing the weather-worn covers with the kind of reverence reserved for sacred things.  ❝we’ll trade off.  you read me the first chapter,  i’ll read the second.   &  when the words get good,  don’t you dare skim. ❞

she reached the base of the ladder  &  turned,  backlit by the soft spill of streetlight,  hair tousled by the breeze,  eyes bright with mischief  &  promise.  ❝hope you’re not afraid of heights, ❞ she said,  voice light but edged with something electric.  ❝because this book club? it’s got a view. ❞

it was always raining in gotham. it came down in sheets, cold and bitter as if it were trying to wash away all the gunk and trash that filled the streets. what gotham lacked in charm it more than made up for with backstreets and drainage tunnels. gotham was good for that—disappearing. it had a thousand corners that no one looked into too closely. not unless you were looking for something.

he should've known his luck would run out eventually, he just didn't think it would be a handful of baby faced goons with something to prove. four, two with bats, one with a jagged piece of pipe in his hand. improvised weapons that weren't carried just for show.

❝ you don't want to do this, ❞ bucky warned just loud enough to be heard over the pelting rain. the four of them laughed. real teeth-baring, dumb as youth that thought they were invincible, laughter. then one of them swung.

bucky caught the bat mid-air without thinking. not with the metal. not yet. just a gloved hand and the right angle. he twisted the wrist, fast, and the goon screamed as the tendons gave up, pipe dropping onto the asphalt with a resounding clang. // @bcywonder , ♡'d for a starter .

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. ❞

he didn't flinch, he rarely ever did. not when people raised their voices, not when they started flailing like they might be carrying a contagious form of hunted by mine enemies. he just watched, quiet and measured with a single brow raised in silent question. booster's outburst seemed . . . misplaced and strained. there was more to the random attack than was on the surface, booster had obviously been the target but his attackers had been, strange. trained and well-armed, and yet not only did bucky not recognise their particular brand, he also didn't recognise their weaponry.

bucky folded his arms across his chest, one shoulder leaning against the wood of a floor to ceiling sized dresser. the stench in the motel was familiar. old sweat, burned wiring, fear trying to hide behind sarcasm. bucky knew the smell better than he cared to admit. it was the kind of smell that stuck to ones skin like regret. ❝ they come after someone i'm standing next to, that makes it my fight. ❞ he said carefully.

booster had handled himself in the fight, that wasn't up for debate, but now that the danger had come to a brief pause, bucky could look at him—really look at him this time—and he saw the fray around the edges of a carefully sculpted facade. the patchwork suit, worn and scorched, the dangling earpiece. the exhaustion crawling just beneath the surface. bucky saw it all because he'd worn that same look a thousand different ways.

when booster turned from the window, that false bravado peeling off him in layers, bucky's expression softened. sure, walking away would be the smart play. cleaner. safer even. his gaze lingered on booster's hand, the way it gripped the window frame like it was the only thing tethering him to this moment.

❝ until this is over, you're stuck with me. ❞ bucky said, and it wasn't because he had to, but because he chose to. ❝ so, tell me what we're up against. ❞ // @goldbiz , continued from here .