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

Criminal Sentences, Vol. 25

(Sentences from various sources for criminals and/or dangerous muses. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"I want to liberate your truest self: the beast that prowls around your heart."

"A wise man would walk away from this house and make a concerted effort to forget everything that occurred last night."

"We had an arrangement. You don't come here."

"Don't play games. I'm not in the mood."

"I'm not so easy to kill."

"I really want to apologise for, you know, the massive crime I've committed."

"The thing is, what you're asking, it isn't easy - and it sure isn't free."

"Are you worried I'm going to shoot him or something?"

"The next time you come in here without my permission, you and me are going to have a problem."

"Listen, I have just left a very enjoyable evening with some old friends to come and murder a hired contract killer for you, so let's tone down the judgement a tad, shall we?"

"I think if you wanted to kill me, you'd have done it already."

"Everyone has their weaknesses. Don't mind me as I find yours."

"You should know that I've had eyes on you recently, so I know everything."

"I've always been preternaturally inclined to violence. I was exposed to it from an early age."

"What were you trying to prove by doing this? Just showing me that you're good at sneaking into places you're not wanted? I already knew that!"

"I've tasted success, and it's a meal I now wish to devour."

"Holy christ, you're a morbid fuck!"

"I'll be sure to call next time I need someone threatened."

"You have no sense of the terrors I will bring onto you."

"You don't even know what you're dealing with, do you?"

"Some of us get harder as we get older, and some of us get soft."

"Who the hell are you to order me around?"

"You're not going to survive coming after me."

"People like you and me, we don't get to ride off into the sunset - but we get to stay around and watch the stars come out, and that's not nothing, I suppose."

"We don't have to trust each other, we don't even have to like each other, but we have to work together on this."

"You should be more afraid of me."

"Death excites you, doesn't it?"

"Do you have to enjoy my discomfort quite so much?"

"Because I murder with will and not like a blind animal, you think me a monster. Yet, how many corpse have you left in your wake?"

"If you want my help, you'll do as I ask."

"Do not fool yourself; you cannot lie to me."

"You're a very suspicious person."

"Do you still have that rocket launcher?"

"Do you carry a knife everywhere now?"

"You offer me a normal life. Why do you think I want that anymore?"

"Why are you consulting with that traitor?"

"That's really not the legal loophole you think it is."

"I just realised what you're most afraid of."

there was no undoing what had happened to them, the world or fate or simply the harsh reality, was that it would stay with them for as long as they lived. but there was a means to overcome it. to survive and live despite the violence, the pain, and the horror of it all. she wasn't too far gone to come back to something—someone—more. it was hopelessly optimistic to believe it, and bucky knew better than most that believing it was sometimes harder than even living it, but if he could do it, then so could she.

❝ all we can do is try, ❞ he said, with the same heavy quiet that had wrapped itself around her voice. try, fail, fail again. he wasn't saying that it would be easy, but then, nothing in either of their lives had ever been easy.

bucky holstered the weapon he'd taken from her in his waistband, casting one last glance at the dead man at their feet. blood had pooled around his corpse. ❝ time to go. ❞ he said, voice louder now, something like conviction laced into his words. ❝ i know how to start. ❞

the breath she took felt foreign,  like she had forgotten how to hold air in her lungs without bracing for the next strike.  the world had been sharp edges for so long — missions  &  orders,  blood  &  consequence — that the thought of something mundane felt almost laughable.  help someone with their bags? walk someone across the street? the absurdity of it settled in her chest like a stone,  heavy  &  unfamiliar.  she had spent so long being shaped into something unrecognizable,   &  now he was telling her to rebuild herself with the smallest,  gentlest things.   

she wanted to scoff,  to tell him she wasn’t built for kindness anymore,  that her hands only knew how to take,  how to destroy.  but she swallowed the words.  because she had seen it in him — something she had thought impossible.  the way his presence no longer carried the same weight as before,  how the ghosts still walked beside him but did not dictate his every step.   &  if he could be more than what they had made him,  then maybe — just maybe — she could too.   

her fingers curled,  then flexed,  as if testing the weight of an idea she had never dared to hold.  ❝ &  if it doesn’t work?❞  she asked,  voice barely above a whisper.  but beneath it,  buried in the quiet,  was the real question:  &  if i don’t deserve it?

Archives of HYDRA

April 1st Theme: HYDRA @catws-anniversary

they call him THE WINTER SOLDIER

the safehouse was the kind of place no one asked questions about. tucked between abandoned buildings on the outskirts of the city, it was forgotten. lost. much like them. the silence that stretched between them was tangible, the kind that felt as if it were leaving behind a sticky residue. his gaze—sharp, weary—never left her. pale blue scrutinizing the same truth he'd seen in the mirror splay out across her face.

❝ i’m afraid i had no choice in the matter. ❞

it was a familiar story and a familiar wound still bleeding beneath the surface. bucky leaned back slightly, flexing his fingers carefully, his expression neutral. then, after a long moment—maybe too long—he gave a slow nod.

❝ yeah, ❞ he murmured. ❝ i know. ❞ that was it. no absolution, no condemnation. just the weight of knowing what it was like to someone else's weapon. // @staticveil , altered carbon prompt .

❝ you think i can't walk out of here right now? ❞ the soldier asked, a trace of a challenge woven into his voice. whatever power her bosses or their bosses' bosses thought they had was nothing more than wishful thinking. he'd taken apart more than a single police station with less. the only reason he was sitting in that interrogation room, the only reason he'd even stepped foot into the station was because he wanted to.

❝ oh? and who's they, huh? ❞ bucky asked, a humorless smile that was all teeth tugging at the corners of his mouth. he suspected she was good at her job, perhaps even an expert in her field, a shining star. but he'd come face to face with people like her over and over again. people who spoke beautifully, eloquently, who said all the right things in all the right ways. but there was always an angle. some agenda hidden inside all of the carefully interwoven hints and unspoken promises.

❝ and what's in it for you? you gonna share this information with me for what? need me to kill someone for you? destabilise a country? destroy an embassy? ❞ that humorless smile remained, as sharp as the curve of a knife, ❝ i don't work for anyone anymore. ❞

clea’s gaze remained steady,  neither pressuring nor retreating,  her words carefully measured.  she saw the quiet resolve in him — the winter soldier,  a man who had been honed by pain  &  time into something beyond ordinary human limits.  she wasn’t naive enough to think she could break him,   &  there was no need to try.  he was the one who had to decide if he wanted what she had to offer.   

her voice was soft,  like a gentle invitation,  but it carried weight — an offer he couldn’t ignore.  ❝no one is keeping you, ❞ she said,  her words almost soothing.  ❝but you’re already in a position where you don’t have full control,  even if you think you do.❞ she leaned forward slightly,  her expression unhurried,  as though she were discussing a simple fact of life.  ❝i’m not offering you shelter or protection.  i’m offering you information — things you need to know,  things they don’t want you to hear. ❞ she let that hang in the air for a moment,  watching him,  her eyes reflecting an understanding that was almost too knowing.  ❝you don’t have to trust me,  but you should know this: you can’t outrun what’s already hunting you.  not forever. ❞ she tilted her head slightly,  her voice lowering.  ❝i can help you avoid it.  or,  at the very least,  i can tell you how to fight back. ❞

the docks reeked of salt and rust, the brine curling in off the water and tangling with the sharp scent of oil slicks and cigarette smoke. bucky was midway through unloading a shipment when he saw him. limping slightly, a welt blooming ugly and purple along his cheekbone, just shy of his eye. a split lip, dried blood crusted at the corner. jacket dusted with grit and knuckles raw. bucky swore under his breath, setting the crate he'd been carrying down and ignoring the curious looks his coworkers shot him as he met him on the quay.

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

❝ for chrissake, steve! ❞ bucky all but growled once he was close enough he wouldn't have to yell, ❝ i told you to wait for me. ❞ his fingers twitched—tempted to grab him, shake him, maybe slug him once for good measure. they'd heard about the harrisons through the usual gossip on their block. moved in a few weeks ago, two floors below his and steves. mrs. harrison was as sweet a girl as anyone could ask for and pretty as a doll, but mr. harrison was a stone cold drunk with a tendency to talk with his fists.

❝ how bad? ❞ bucky asked, lips pressing into a grim line because he knew. knew that if steve confronted the man half-cocked and alone then something had to have gone very, very wrong. // @sh1elded , injuries + aid 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. ❞

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.