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You know, for so long I tried to pinpoint what exactly about the bank vault scene from CATWS was so exquisitely painful to me (aside from, well, the obvious bits), and I think maybe I finally got it.

This is immediately after the causeway fight and Bucky's interaction with Steve - a brief exchange where, I think, he got to hear Steve's voice for the first time since '45; hell, where somebody called Bucky's real name for the first time since '45, and where Bucky was just forced to really look at Steve, as something other than a target or an obstacle to his mission.

And Bucky hasn't been the same since. Imagine him turning those precious few seconds over and over in his mind on his way back to the bank, trying to make sense of the feelings stirring in his gut.

He can't stop thinking about it. Steve's face is familiar (and when has Bucky been able to associate the word familiar with anything else in the last seventy years?). It brings flashes of long-buried memories back to the surface - perhaps not enough to put the whole story together, but that's not the point here.

The point is, Bucky's gone back to his handler - Pierce. This is the man Bucky defers to, the man he depends on; the man Bucky trusts to tell him who he is, and what his purpose is, and what his life amounts to; the man whose orders Bucky obeys blindly, wordlessly, because Pierce knows best.

Pierce is the brain here; he is authority, he is power, he is cunning: his word is law. He commands Bucky, even guides him in a sense - in a horrible, twisted kind of irony - like a father does his child. He provides a secure fixture in Bucky's existence, a pillar of trust and truth.

Bucky, on the other hand, is only the tool here - the fist of hydra. He doesn't make the big decisions, he doesn't know what's happening in the world out there beyond what Pierce tells him, he doesn't understand the artfulness, the finesse behind these games of power Pierce seems born to play. And how would he, with his scattered brain?

He simply has to trust Pierce's word. Whatever Pierce tells him, that will be the unquestionable truth to him. The Soldier may doubt himself, but never his handler.

AND YET.

And yet right here, right now, Bucky dares to defy this once unbreakable rule.

Bucky brings to Pierce this question that's been churning inside him, that just won't leave him alone. He doesn't really know what it means; all he knows is that it's important, so important that he's willing to risk being sent on a jolly ride on the electroshock chair, just in the attempt to bring this to the light.

And the darndest thing happens, because even when Pierce tries to distract him with his whole "a gift to mankind" spiel, even when he tries to dismiss Bucky's question as to who Steve is, denying any deeper tie to him than "you saw him earlier this week on another assignment", Bucky doesn't believe him.

This poor boy, he's got every reason to doubt himself, every reason to rely on Pierce and take his word at face value (Pierce's word is law, remember?), and yet.

For the first time, Bucky's doubting this man's word, and trusting his own broken mind instead.

Those few seconds where Steve looked at him, gave him a name, saw him in a way nobody has seen him since before he can remember, have sparked something dangerously, unexpectedly powerful within Bucky. Something that runs much, much deeper than any brainwashing; something that gives him the strength and stubborness to question his handler's word, to go so far as to insist (!) that he knew the man he saw on the bridge, to refuse to let this be dismissed, because. Because Bucky knew him. He doesn't know how or why, but he knows this, and he knows that it's important, so important that he needs to hold onto it for as long as he can. This feels personal, intimate - this thing, this truth belongs to him, and he's trying to defend it, even as completely vulnerable and defenseless as he is.

I think that's why it gets to me, because, fuck - even as confused and scared and miserable as he is, even when being compliant and letting this drop would spare him a world of excruciating pain, even when he's been conditioned to think of himself as only a machine and of his handler as his only god, omniscient and omnipotent and infallible, Steve - all of Steve, Steve's place in Bucky's memory, in his heart, in his life - is the only truth Bucky never doubts, and he refuses to deny it. He knows what's coming - Pierce's command to "wipe him" doesn't seem to surprise him at all - but still he refuses to let this go.

Like!!! Fuck!!!!!!!! That's how deeply rooted his love for Steve is!! That's the kind of hold it's got on him!!! That's how much he'd risk for the chance to hold onto the faintest memory of him! Five seconds spent looking in Steve’s eyes and he's ready to overturn and upend and second-guess the very basis of his existence as he knows it. How fucking powerful is that?

I just, I just can't deal with this wtf 😭😭

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happy pride to whatever the fuck this was

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One of my favorite things about comic!Bucky is that he constantly overestimates his odds, gets his ass kicked, and still manages to piss off everyone who fights him because of how stubborn he is. He'll be locked in a dungeon with three broken ribs, not a friendly soul in sight, and still find the time to wisecrack about how stupid all his enemies are. He's got no superpowers, no serum, almost no allies, and he keeps on trucking anyway.

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i cant believe we live in a world where colleen hoover is dominating bookstores and not easily conquered is nothing but a captain america fanfiction on the internet. what the fuck

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Pencil drawing from a while back, this is one of my all-time favorite fanart pieces I've done

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Pen sketches!

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I have so many drawings from 2020 that I need to post here, this is one of my favorites!

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Metalhead au Steve Bucky

back in my mcu era woah

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"If time is meant for living, why's it killing me?"

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Stucky sketches from 2020! Made these with my non-domimant hand when I sprained my wrist, good times lmao

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this hurt my feelings

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I thought it'd be cool to finally be a part of a fandom while the movie/show was coming out (instead of years later) but I was not anticipating the discourse, I'll come back when everything has died down 😭

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Feeling insane about this

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The Winter Soldier File, part 2 of 2

From Captain America #11 (2005)

The Winter Soldier File, part 1 of 2

From Captain America #11 (2005)

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The Winter Soldier File, part 1 of 2

From Captain America #11 (2005)

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people who write fics. how do you feel about comments on super old ones you wrote like 2+ years ago

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Trying to fly away from a shadow

I have finished the fic as promised, posting a preview of it here! Thunderbolts spoilers below the cut!

Characters: Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier, Steve Rogers, HYDRA agents

Tags: angst, the void shame rooms, Bucky Barnes's void shame rooms, hurt no comfort, canon-typical violence, canon compliant, drug withdrawal, brainwashing, imprisonment, past relationship(s), implied suicidal ideation, panic

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Bucky trailed behind the others as they stepped into the void, taking one last look at the city darkening around him. 

New York disappeared in an instant, replaced by a dimly lit room. He didn’t recognize it at first - an empty holding cell. Metal walls, floor, ceiling, and minimal furnishings held to the wall with thick chains. He could hear the faint hum of medical equipment from outside the door, but the sound barely penetrated the thick walls. 

A hoarse whisper sounded through the silence, startling him, and he located the source of the sound in an instant. 

Crouched in a corner behind the bed.

“You have to get me…please…they’re gonna keep me alive forever…”

As he stepped around the bed, his eye caught on the silvery glint of the man’s left shoulder. 

This…version…of him was staring right through him. 

Cautiously, he moved in closer, crouching so he wouldn’t scare him as badly, but it was like Bucky didn’t exist at all to him. 

He should remember this. That’s what Walker said, at least, but he couldn’t piece the memory together to save his life. A nondescript cell, reinforced - solitary confinement, but nothing outstanding. 

Out of the blue, a man wearing a trench coat and a small cap barged through the door, and they both backed against opposite sides of the wall instinctively. 

“Leave me alone, I didn’t do anything!” The younger version of him yelled, frantic. “The guard started -”

“You do not speak unless spoken to.” The man replied in Russian, cold and unemotional. 

“Please, I promise -”

“Do not speak.” With surprising force, the man lunged at him, grabbing him around the neck. Bucky struggled against his grip and wrenched his hand away with his metal arm, sending him flying across the room. Two guards marched in an instant later, dragging him in front of the man and kicking him to his knees. 

Suddenly, the moment rushed back into Bucky’s head.

He launched himself at the man on the ground, too panicked to think before the man rose to his feet and, with inhuman strength, tackled him to the cell floor. 

“Too late, Soldier.” Another four guards filed through the room to restrain him, all of them somehow stronger than he was, shoving him against the wall and forcing his head forward. 

The other version of him just stared, almost curious, before his attention snapped back to the man in front of him. 

“Longing.”

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Ao3 link for the full fic!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65402821