#⸢ ✪ ⸥ VERSE. | 𝑣𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑜𝑟 𝑣𝑖𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑚.

[fallencomrade]

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 ...

[fallencomrade]

𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙿𝙸𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙽𝙴𝚆 𝚂𝙸𝙶𝙽𝙰𝙻   //     T̷ R̷ A̷ N̷ S̷ M̷ I̷ T̷ T̷ I̷ N̷ G̷ … 𝙸𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚇𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙵𝚁𝙾𝙼 𝙰𝚁𝙲𝙷𝙸𝚅𝙴𝚂  //   [ SOURCE ]    ​​

                     𝐇𝐈𝐒  𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄  𝐎𝐅  𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐎𝐌  𝐖𝐀𝐒  𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐓 - 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐃.  

     the  BEAST  had  been  wounded,  but  not  SLAIN.   𝑐𝜇𝜏 𝜎𝑓𝑓 𝜎𝜋𝜀 𝘩𝜀𝛼𝜕,  𝜏𝜔�� 𝑚𝜎𝑟𝜀 𝑠𝘩𝛼𝑙𝑙 𝜏𝛼𝜅𝜀 𝜄𝜏𝑠 𝜌𝑙𝛼𝑐𝜀.      he  should  be  grateful,  they  make  sure  to  remind  him  once  they  reclaim  him.  thankful  for  the  restraints  that  are  wrapped  around  each  tired  limb.  thankful  for  drugs  that  are  pushed  into  his  dying  body.    it  eases  his  suffering,  if  only  a  little.  enough  to  calm  his  racing  heart,  his  labored  breathing    ;;    enough  to  muffle  the  NOISE  devastating  his  mind.     … if  only  a  little.       you  should  be  thanking  us,  soldat.   &&  so  he  does.   the  pain  running  rampant  between  his  temples  is  VICIOUS,  memories  hemorrhaging  like  open  wounds  inside  his  splintered  mind.   W̷E̷  W̷I̷L̷L̷  F̷I̷X̷  Y̷O̷U̷.   body  heavy  and  slow,  WEAK  -  damaged.   W̷E̷  W̷I̷L̷L̷  F̷I̷X̷  Y̷O̷U̷.    his  purpose,  undefined.   W̷E̷  W̷I̷L̷L̷  R̷E̷M̷I̷N̷D̷  Y̷O̷U̷.

    SOVEREIGNTY  IS  A  PRIVILEGE  HE  IS  NOT  PRIVY  TO.   &&  without  guidance  -  WITHOUT  INSTRUCTION  -  the  soldier  had  floundered  beneath  the  responsibility.  he  ran  because  his  mind  screamed  at  him  to  do  so.        even  when  his  body  could  no  longer  manage  to  do  so,  it  screamed.   the  noise  chased  him,  terrified  at  his  ear.   it  persisted,  even  when  he  forgot  why  he  was  running   ;;   WHO  he  was  running  from.  why  it  is  so  important.  he  ran  until  his  body  collapsed  and  then  he  crawled ...  until  his  mind  finally  SHUT  DOWN.     it  is  an  unfortunate  outcome  that  it  was  hydra  who  managed  to  find  him  before  the  captain.  they  would  always  come  to  collect  what  is  theirs  though.   &&  the  soldier  BELONGS  to  them. 

             W̷E̷  C̷R̷E̷A̷T̷E̷D̷  Y̷O̷U̷.  W̷E̷  W̷I̷L̷L̷  R̷E̷M̷I̷N̷D̷  Y̷O̷U̷.  W̷E̷  W̷I̷L̷L̷  F̷I̷X̷  Y̷O̷U̷.

     even  though  they  claim  to  be  his  makers,     even  though  they  assure  him  with  undeniable  certainty  that  his  mind  and  his  body  are  theirs  to  command,     they  still  keep  him  restrained  at  all  times,  as  if …  afraid.   barnes’  mind  is  too  FRAGMENTED  to  question.  his  body  too  weak  to  fight.  by  the  time  he  was  recaptured,  all  the  man  wanted  was  for  the  noise  caught  inside  his  head  to  stop.  he  was  so  desperate  for  a  moment  of  relief  that  he  ignored  the  instinct  coiling  in  his  gut.  they  promise  to  make  it  stop.  &&  when  they  sharply  order  for  him  to  follow,  his  mind  responds  well  to  their  commands  -  a  familiar  comfort  in  this  loud,  unfamiliar  world.       when  they  snap  cuffs  around  his  ankles  and  wrists,  he  does  not  resist.   when  they  lock  him  inside  a  cage,  he  does  not  resist.  when  hands  push  him  down  onto  a  metal  gurney  and  restrain,  he  does  not  resist.       when  needles  pierce  his  skin  and  warmth  pours  into  his  veins,  he  does  not  resist.    

     HE  NEVER  RESISTS    …  not  until  he  is  escorted  into  a  room  which  at  its  center  sits  a  CHAIR.         it  is  only  then  that  his  feet  halt  -  an  old,  familiar  FEAR  returning,  frantic  inside  of  him.  run.   run.   run !   he  realizes  in  that  moment  that  THIS  was  what  he  had  been  so  desperately  running  from  and  that  they  had  led  him  right  back  to  it.  they  are  impatient,  ordering  him  to  sit   -  but  the  asset  finds  himself  unable  to  move,  unable  to  breathe.

     &&  finally,  once  they  attempt  to  FORCE  him,  the  man  finally  starts  to  RESIST.    —  by  this  time  though,  it  is  unfortunately  TOO  LATE.  their  drugs  are  in  his  system,  their  words  already  poisoning  his  mind.  his  body  is  still  weak  from  his  little  stunt.  still,  he  tries  -  but  when  they  strike  him  with  stun  batons,  the  shock  packs  just  enough  of  that  horribly  familiar  SPARK  to  scare  him  closer  to  the  chair.  they  are  quick  to  strap  him  down  after  that,  sighing  their  grievances.  

     one  of  the  technicians  looks  over  to  the  other,  concern  in  her  eyes.   ❛  the  avengers  have  already  breached  the  compound.  we  need  to  be  quick.  if  the  soldier  is  needed,  he  must  be  stable  enough  to  comply  to  our  orders.  ❜  the  other  responds,  dismissive  and  snide.  ❛  you  really  think  they  will  be  able  to  make  it  passed  strucker’s  little  NIGHTMARES ?   unlikely.   just  focus.   ❜  

     THE MACHINE GROANS WITH LIFE,  crackling.  the  gears  whirl,  filling  the  room  with  a  buzzing  that  has  every  hair  on  his  body  standing  up  on  edge.  it  SPARKS,  warming  up  and  the  sound  wrenches  the  air  clean  from  the  asset’s  lungs.        FEAR  coils  and  tightens  in  his  gut,  twisting  tighter  and  tighter.    a  bite  guard  is  shoved  into  his  mouth  and  the  taste  of  rubber  -  the  memory  of  it  -  leaves  him  gagging.  the  machine  churns  as  its  arms  lowers  down,  closer.  closer.       please,  he  tries  to  shape  the  word  on  his  tongue.  please  -  please  !    don’t ————————————  !      but  it  is  too  late.

                           𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆.

[fallencomrade]

𝐴𝐿𝐿 𝑇𝐻𝑂𝑆𝐸 𝑀𝐴𝑁𝑌 𝑌𝐸𝐴𝑅𝑆 𝐴𝐺𝑂, how desperately steven rogers fought to steer clear of death's treacherous doorstep. there were ideas in his mind that the soldier knew to be true, even if the memories were fragmented and colorless and this he knows for certain ( although he may deny it. ) an uncompromising opponent, steve had faced and grappled death far more than any man should. it is in his very nature, to stare death boldly in the face and deny him that which he has spent decades trying to claim.

steve rogers fought for LIFE .... so why was he so determined now to chase down death.

emotion. humanity. sentiment - these concepts are even more unfamiliar, even more fragmented than the broken pictures which crowd his headspace. the longer he remains free from hydra's leash - away from the ice and static heat - the stronger these strange, foreign notions begin to plague him. he still does not understand and in his struggle to understand ( to remember ) he fails to perceive the obvious reality of things. he is as much a puppet to DEATH as he had been to hydra, a mere tool ( A WEAPON ) to achieve the means to an end. in death's failures, it too had grown smarter, more determined. more diabolical and it sat on the edge of existence, gleeful and eager, as it watched formidable foe step so carelessly onto the landmine it had spent years carefully burying. it is INEVITABLE now. the snare will snap and will finally, once and for all, choke the life free from steven rogers.

despite the meekness in steve's voice, his desperate words echo strongly within the mind of the soldier. i need you. i need you. i need you. they are INVASIVE, swarming him, everywhere all at once and kicking up dust and ash. the asset has to shut his eyes and grit his teeth, concentrating his will to push the tremors away. screeching memories and stimulus rises from the craters of his hollow self, but before they can take shape, he swallows it back down. breathing out slowly, he unclenches his jaw and shakes his head.

❛  i have nothing to offer you, captain. ❜ a tightened grip around the hilt of his serrated blade serves as motivation, encouragement. still, he does not risk turning his head to place the man in his sights. ❛  and do not presume just because i no longer serve hydra, that we are on the same side. ❜ they are not meant to exist on the same plane. the closer light approaches, the more it consumes of the shadows in its wake. the idea of steve embracing his darkness ... the more determined ( desperate ) james barnes is to DENY him of such.

&& desperate men are willing to do desperate things.

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 ...