It Was Easier To Be Present When The City's Heartbeat Pounded All Around Them. The Distant Call Of Sirens,

he pinched his lips together tightly, grim and final upon the bitter laugh that escaped her lips. yes, it was cruel, the cruelest part of what had been done to them was the aftermath. the trying and failing, and trying, and failing to piece some semblance of normalcy back together after being ravaged and having no one else to blame for it.

bucky didn't consider himself particularly spiritual, even with all the impossible things he had seen and experienced, but when their eyes met, something within him seemed to . . . connect. the same unknown thing reflected back, whole and seemingly so real it might as well have been tangible.

the corners of his mouth twitched into a bittersweet smile. he couldn't comfort her, he couldn't sooth her doubts or anxieties, and he couldn't heal her wounds but this—this he could do. the assurance that she wasn't alone, that there was someone who understood, who could share in the burden, who would not flinch or hide or placate with falsehoods. he wanted it to be enough. ❝ we take what we can get, ❞ bucky agreed.

the bittersweet smile lingered, softening at its edges as she mentioned a mostly abandoned library. the tension that had gathered around them as they spoke lightened as they shared their burden between them. ❝ i've got nowhere better to be. ❞ he stood, ❝ lead the way. ❞

kara closed her eyes for a moment,  exhaling through her nose,  as if she could push the weight of it from her chest.  it never worked.  the weight did not leave — it only settled differently,  shifting like sand,  filling spaces she hadn’t realized were hollow.  survival,  he called it,  but it did not feel like survival.  survival should have meant something more than this endless treading of water,  this constant recalibration of self,  this desperate attempt to define the edges of a person who had been reshaped too many times to recognize.  

she had spent years dissecting history,  unearthing lost truths from ruins,  believing that knowledge could illuminate the fractures in time.  but what of the fractures in herself? what of the moments lost to another’s will,  the choices stolen before they could ever be hers?  &  what of the things she had done in that space between will  &  coercion — things she could never quite convince herself weren’t,  on some level,  choices?  

she let out a quiet laugh,  humorless but not unkind,  the sound barely more than breath.  ❝isn’t that the cruelest part?❞ her voice was softer now,  frayed at the edges like something worn thin by time.  ❝that survival isn’t about winning.  it isn’t about answers.  it’s just waking up  &  carrying it again.   &  again.   &  again.❞ she had spent so long chasing resolution,  clinging to the belief that if she just found the right question,  the right truth,  the right name for what had been done to her,  it would make a difference.  that it would become something she could lock away in the archives of her mind,  catalogued  &  contained.  but there were no clean lines here,  no dates to mark the end of a war still waging beneath her skin. 

 &  yet,  when she lifted her gaze to his,  something shifted.  there was no judgment in his eyes,  no expectation — just the quiet understanding of someone who knew exactly what it was to live in the in-between.  the silence between them was not empty but full,  layered with something unspoken,  something almost gentle in its recognition.  her breath caught,  just for a moment,  before she softened,  her voice quieter now,  something raw threading through it.  ❝but if we have to carry it,❞ she murmured,  ❝then i suppose there are worse things than sharing the load.❞ it was a quiet offering of company in the places where ghosts still lingered.  maybe that was enough. 

❝there’s an old library a few miles from here,❞ she said after a pause,  the words careful,  deliberate.  ❝abandoned, mostly.❞ a beat,  then a faint,  fleeting flicker of something like wry amusement in her eyes.  ❝unless you have a better idea.❞

❝ then i'm not saying it right, ❞ bucky mumbled, because what he was asking her to do was the hardest thing he'd ever attempted. coming back from a lifetime of war, blood, pain, and violence was a constant work in progress and most of the time he felt as if he were performing for some invisible judge, jury, and executioner. ❝ it's not easy. it's the hardest thing you'll ever do. you'll fail, you'll try again, you'll fail again. ❞

bucky turned the mug of coffee absently in his hand. watched the steam rise from the surface and tried not to lose himself in the ordinariness of the motion. he didn't look at her when she asked about him, instead, his jaw clenched and his brow furrowed. truth be told, he tried not to think about it.

❝ i don't know, ❞ he said finally, ❝ but i believe it matters that we try. ❞ he nursed his jaw for several short seconds before he met her eye again, ❝ i don't have all the answers. i'm making this up as i go, but i do know this: you're not too far gone that you can't come back, kara. ❞

kara let the silence stretch between them,  let it settle around her like a weighted blanket,  unfamiliar but not unwelcome.  no history.  no past.  just now.   she traced the rim of her cup with a fingertip,  watching the way the steam curled  &  disappeared.  ❝you make it sound easy. ❞ the words weren’t an accusation,  just an observation.  she wondered if he really believed it — that the weight of the past could be shrugged off so cleanly,  left outside like a coat too heavy for summer air.   

her fingers flexed against the ceramic.  ❝maybe it is.  for some people. ❞ she glanced around,  watching the other patrons — people who belonged here in a way she never could.  the man at the counter flipping through a newspaper,  the couple sharing a plate of fries,  the waitress moving through it all like she had done this a thousand times before  &  would do it a thousand times again.  ❝i don’t know if i can be one of them. ❞  but she wanted to be.  what she wasn’t sure of was what she wanted from him.  reassurance? permission? maybe just the chance to sit here  &  pretend,  for a moment,  that she belonged.   

the waitress set a menu down in front of her with an absent smile,   &  kara nodded her thanks.  the gesture felt small but significant.  normal.  she wrapped her hands around the warmth of the coffee cup,  inhaling the scent of something burnt  &  bitter  &  real.  she looked up at bucky again.  ❝&  what about you?❞ her voice was quieter now,  but steady.  ❝do you believe that? that we can just …  exist?❞  her gaze shifted from him. ❝ do you think we can ever have … more? ❞

listened to boots on repeat for too long and now my brain is

the detective flipped through a notepad, a stalling tactic no doubt meant to make him nervous enough to slip up. james murphy, you said? they asked while staring down at the drivers license he'd provided. bucky neither confirmed or denied, only waited. he could've stood there all night while they poked and prodded, but he didn't have to.

[ ALIBI ]: the sender provides a false alibi to protect the receiver from legal issues.

steve fell into position at his side and the detective nearest him shifted instinctively. he was with me last night, steve lied. the detective studied steve for a beat before flicking a glance back to bucky to reassess. he'd been an unknown before, an enigmatic question mark but now, standing next to captain america, that question mark became something else entirely—something that didn't fit neatly into whatever theory they had been building about the gunfire fight down at the docks.

❝ we played cards, had a few drinks. ❞ bucky added smoothly. // @sh1elded , right place prompts .

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

I will get up again. And again. And again.

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. ❞

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."

HEADCANON : early deployment .

Late 1941, following the attack on Pearl Harbor, Bucky voluntarily enlisted in the U.S. Army, driven by a sense of duty responsibility. He completed basic training at Camp Lehigh, where his natural athleticism and sharpshooting abilities quickly gained recognition. After completing advanced infantry and marksman training, Bucky was promoted to Sergeant due to his leadership skills.

In early 1943, the 107th Infantry Regiment was reorganized and reassigned to the 3rd Infantry Division, deploying to North Africa as part of the Tunisian Campaign. After landing in Algeria, the regiment was attached to U.S. II Corps and pushed eastward into Tunisia, engaging German forces in the Kasserine Pass and El Guettar. As a marksman and reconnaissance specialist, Bucky was frequently tasked with scouting enemy positions, providing overwatch for advancing infantry, and neutralizing high-value targets.

After North Africa, the 107th participated in the Allied invasion of Sicily (Operation Husky, July 1943), landing with the U.S. Seventh Army at Gela. Bucky and his unit took up defensive positions to support the landings, providing long-range fire and helping repel the Hermann Göring Panzer Division's counterattacks. Throughout the Sicilian campaign, he refined his mountain warfare, urban sniping, and small-unit tactics, often working alongside British Commandos, Free French Forces, and Italian partisans.

Following the capture of Sicily, the 107th joined the invasion of mainland Italy in September 1943, landing at Salerno. The fighting was brutal as German forces launched counterattacks to push the Allies back into the sea. During one engagement, Bucky’s unit was sent ahead to secure a strategic pass in the mountains, only to find themselves cut off and forced into a guerrilla-style fight, linking up with Italian resistance fighters to sabotage enemy supply lines.

By October 1943, the 107th was assigned a high-priority operation near Azzano, unaware of the Hydra experiments on Allied POWs in the area. While securing a strategic position, they were ambushed by Hydra forces wielding experimental weapons, leading to their capture and imprisonment in a Hydra weapons facility.

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