#feminist bucky

[heavenhatesme]

As an Iranian girl, I want to tell you, Mahsa Amini's hijab was much more decent than my own everyday outfit. It might've been me, my mother, my sister, my friend or anyone.

Then they kill 100 more to prove they didn't kill 1? Where is the justice in that? Who can we go to when the police is the murderer?

As a feminist, as a human, send our voice across the world. We're fighting, and this time, we are not giving up!🇮🇷🕊

#iran #iran protests 2022 #mahsa amini #feminist #feminism #human rights #women #lgbtq #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger #levi ackerman x erwin smith #stranger things #house of the dragon #jojo bizarre adventure #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #art #nail art #makeup #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #marvel #avengers #bookaholic #a court of thorns and roses #rhysand #billie eilish #taylor swift

[bi-disaster-yn]

Female Rage

Paring: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky thinks it’s a success when the team manage to uncover a Hydra human trafficking operation targeting women and girls. Reader knows it’s only a drop in the ocean of patriarchal violence towards women.

A/N: This was very cathartic for me to write. I carry around all these feelings and fanfic allows me to outlet them. Thanks for being part of it <3

⚠️ WARNING ⚠️ This fic discusses systematic issues around violence towards women and has mentions of trafficking, sexual violence, domestic abuse and murder.

The sirens, the flashing blue lights, and all of the people around you overwhelmed your senses. Your body became a mere vessel which moved without any control or instruction. A part of your soul had died but you had to keep going.

All around you were women and young girls who, just an hour prior, were being held in a lorry and were being trafficked to a covert Hydra base. The purpose of the operation was an early stage attempt to revive the Red Room but with a team of you, Bucky, Sam and Yelena you were able to put a stop to it.

Having managed to track the lorry down to the specific coordinates, you infiltrated the mission. They had been driving on a long and quiet country road, seemingly hidden by the cascades of giant trees in an extensive woodland. A nasty fight with the Hydra agents ensued when you and Yelena caught up with them in an Audi, while Bucky met them head on with a motorcycle and Sam flew in and took the roof. It concluded with them being hauled away in handcuffs but you wish you’d killed them.

Then came the aftermath.

The scene seemed to be carrying on around you without any of your input, as though you could disappear and nothing would have changed. Government officials, policemen and ambulances had arrived to assist in getting these women to safety. You were supposed to be directing them to safe points, instructing the paramedics and police officers on what to do next but the more you tried to focus, the harder it got.

Each time one of the victims thanked you, it sent an ugly shudder down your spine. An abnormally large shaped lump swelled in your throat, rendering a response impossible. All you could offer was a solemn nod, which somehow, they managed to receive your true meaning. An unspoken understanding that could only be shared between women endured throughout all of your exchanges.

Bucky and Sam were still capable of focus as they liaised with officers and helped women, offering more words of encouragement than you or Yelena ever could. Every now and then, Bucky flashed you an encouraging smile, clearly proud of what you were able to achieve today. It was something you couldn’t return.

Ringing in your ears persisted and you flinched as more sirens arrived. You moved without purpose, trying to point in different directions to aid the girls to paramedics if they needed medical attention, and to a police officer if not. Even then, a peculiar feeling churned in your stomach as you stared at the officers, who were all men and mentally cursed that no one in the police department had thought to send any women to this scene. Effectively, it felt like you were passing these girls from one evil, male-dominated organisation to another.

A strong sense of injustice built up tension in your body, harbouring an overpowering reaction, which you were unsure if you could suppress for much longer.

The match in the powder barrel, however, was witnessing a girl who couldn’t have been older than 14 sheltering and comforting two little girls who were terrified and crying for their mother. At first glance, it appeared as though the little ones had no relation to her whatsoever. Yet, this girl had adopted this maternal role which she was far too young to accept. As soon as you saw them safely situated in an ambulance, you decided you couldn’t take this anymore.

Passing by everyone and ignoring calls from Sam, you stormed into the woods, descending deeper and deeper into the trees and the natural beauty of Mother Nature.

You couldn’t remember when you started crying, you just knew that tears streamed down your cheeks. The combination of the tears and the intense headache they brought blurred your vision. You brought your hands to your head and wailed, knowing that no one would hear you.

You thought about how those girls had now secured this trauma and although the Hydra mission hadn’t been completed, this ordeal would alter the courses of their lives forever. This would manifest itself in different ways in all of their lives. They’d never be able to live without the memory of this ever again, tainting their experiences, putting them on their guard, making them cautious of the world and what monsters harboured amongst the humans among them. Honestly, you preferred your chances against Thanos than the men that walked this Earth.

That very concept made you angry. No, not angry. Incandescent.

The lump in your throat was surpassed by a bloodcurdling scream, the sound of which was so terrifying that the birds from the trees desperately flew away in a flock.

It was the only sound that could be heard for miles. All your rage was buried deep inside these woods like it had been in your body for years.

At this moment, this is all you were capable of. You continued to scream despite the scratch it created in your throat, or the fact it had worsened your headache. There was just so much rage contained in your body and you needed to get it out of you, no matter what it took. It was a fury so specific; so intertwined with womanhood and the female experience that no cisgender man could ever comprehend it.

It was female rage.

You were in so much pain. While yesterday you had been wrapped up with Bucky under a blanket, watching TV, eating food, having sex, doing all the normal things one does in a relationship; somewhere else at the same time, this operation was starting. It wouldn’t have been the only one. You were having a carefree day with your boyfriend while elsewhere in the world, men were committing atrocities against women – whether at a systematic level or a domestic one.

You squeezed your eyes shut in aid of your screams. Still without any control, your limbs moved on their own as you started to violently kick and punch one of the trees. Any injury sustained from this frantic display didn’t matter to you. The harsh bark of the tree broke the skin of your knuckles and soon it was decorated with your blood. 

The screams and cries persisted as you channelled this anger into the assault of the tree. You were picturing those Hydra agents with the smug grin on their faces. You pictured the man that groped you in the club without your consent on your last girls’ night. You pictured the images of those incels you had curiously watched interviews with but had to turn your laptop off halfway through. You pictured the men who had refurbished the compound and had stared at you as you trained in the garden. You pictured every man who had ever questioned your ability to keep your emotions in check as a female Avenger.

You pictured them all and you desperately wanted them all to know how fucking helpless and infuriating this all felt. You wanted them to feel the weight of the world just as you had done from being a little girl.

Without warning, some force had pulled you back from the tree and had hauled you close into a smothering embrace. In spite of your blurred vision and your relentless howling, you recognised Bucky’s smell immediately as he held you close to his chest, grabbing your hands and holding them tightly together with his vibranium hand and using his flesh one to put your face in his neck. You struggled against him, feeling suffocated and not having abolished nearly as much fury as you needed to.

“Please, doll, please stop. You’re going to hurt yourself.” Bucky mumbled against your forehead, pressing several gentle kisses to it. 

Nevertheless, you still fought against him. But Bucky was too strong for you and even in the arms of your beloved, you were still trapped by a man.

“Bucky. Let. Me. Go.” You shakily told him with gritted teeth.

“I’m scared to, sweetheart. Your hands… look at them.” He sobbed back, clearly in distress. A quick glimpse at your hands validated his concern. The skin round your knuckles had been torn open and in amongst the blood and mangled flesh lay splinters and chips from the tree.

It wasn’t sore, but the rest of your body was.

“I don’t understand, doll. Did something happen back there to upset you? You saved those girls. We wouldn’t have been able to do that mission without you.” Bucky said gently, loosening his grip only slightly to cradle you lovingly, rather than to protectively restrain you.

It triggered a scoff and even further anger from you.

“That’s not the point! The point is it keeps happening! We saved those girls today, sure. But somewhere out there, another one of those operations is starting and more girls will be hurt. Those operations are going on round the world, Bucky! They want us to be slaves to them in any way they can think of – whether that is to be used as a weapon or for sex or as working mules!

And these men, they’re so fucking clever! They’re making this untraceable! And we won’t be able to save them all. It’s never-ending, we’re trying to scoop up water from the ocean!”

Whether you intended it or not, the words came out as a yell and Bucky let you go. Clearly, none of this had ever occurred to him and your fury scared him. Meanwhile, your hand gestures went wild as you spoke, your facial expressions became more animated. This was only the beginning as your thoughts continued to spill out to the unassuming and gentle man you loved so much.

“And this? This is worst case scenario! Every single day women are subject to the violence of men! We’ve saved those girls, right? And we’re gonna do what? Give them normal homes so they can walk about with their keys in their hands?! We handed them over to fucking police officers who themselves have a history of being violent towards women. The cycle repeats itself!

That’s not the end of it though, these men are in our homes with us. They are beating us, raping us, killing us. We can’t escape them. The good ones aren’t signposted – we just have to trust you and it is the biggest and deadliest risk that we all take.”

Bucky nodded along with you, processing your words and affording you as much space to speak as possible. At first, he was just relieved that you hadn’t resumed your beating on the tree. Then, he began to really listen to you and consume your words and your fury. It horrified him.

In truth, he always appreciated that there was a disproportionate tendency in violence to women and that the world existed on a patriarchal system and that some men were just sexist pigs. Admittedly, this had gotten a lot better than things were in the 40s. However, he had never truly really given it much thought or considered how to change any of it. That was just the way things were. How does one go about revolutionising an entire system? Especially one that appeared to be changing over time as he had suspected.

He took a step forward, holding his arms out for you in case you needed some sanctuary. It was an offer you refused, standing awkwardly and wiping away your tears with the sleeve of your mission jacket. Attempts to comfort you at this point were futile.

“I’m sorry, doll. I have never thought about it like that. I guess it’s because I’ve never had to.” Bucky began with a sympathetic look. “But you can’t do this all by yourself. You did something so good today and you should be proud of yourself for it.”

You sank to your knees, planting your palms in the dirt below you to try and restore some strength to your frail frame. He was right, but he’d never truly understand.

“I just feel so helpless, Bucky. I feel like I’m drowning and every time I put my head above water, someone pulls me back down again.” You explained with fresh, stinging tears. “I’m a fucking Avenger and even I can’t stop this.”

Bucky knelt on the ground in front of you with a sigh, knowing that no matter what he did, he couldn’t make this better for you. It killed him to see his girl so heartbroken and defeated while he could do nothing about it.

“Those girls we saved are going to tell you their stories and you’re going to be upset and you’ll cry for them because you know what it’s like on a human level to be captured and forced to do something you don’t want to do. But you will never understand this pain and fear on a systematic level like I do! To know that you’re inherently in danger just because you were born a woman. I need to stop it. But I don’t know how.”

This time, when Bucky took you in his arms, you let him. The early exertions had exhausted your body and now you were ready to bury your face into his neck, inhaling his comforting scent and feeling safe. The venting had alleviated some of the pain but it still persisted, bubbling discreetly under the surface of your skin, ready to boil again when you were next pushed.

Bucky pressed a loving kiss to the top of your head. He appreciated that there was nothing he could say to make you feel better. Instead, he offered himself to you as comfort to take from him what you needed. The real effects of your headache and bloody knuckles came into fruition and you clenched your fists to deal with the physical pain while Bucky rocked you in a comforting motion.

“Promise me one thing, sweetheart?” Bucky asked and took your hum as permission to keep talking. “Promise me that no matter how tough this all gets; you don’t let it consume you. You are the best person I know and I will follow you into any mission, battle or war for this. But please don’t hurt yourself over it or try and deal with it on your own. I love you, please let me help. Tell me how I can be better.”

You held him so tightly that you might crush him, grateful for his support and his pledge of allegiance to your cause. Blinking away tears that threatened to fall you nodded against his neck so that he knew you had understood him.

“I promise. And, Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“Just know that all this anger and hatred I have towards men and how they treat us never applies to you.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

Bucky held you there in that spot in the woods for what felt like hours until he eventually carried you home. Fatigue had overpowered your body but your brain was still active, already plotting and planning what you were going to do next and how you were going to use your Avenger status as an advantage.

You wouldn’t change the system overnight but you were going to do everything in your power to rally up as much support as possible. The pain and anger that was deep rooted inside you was converted to raw energy and you had the appetite to make a difference.

Female rage is a powerful thing.

#bucky barnes #mcu bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes imagine #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes fic #fatws bucky x reader #james bucky barnes #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #female rage #feminist reader

[atlasscrumpit]

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Don't Be So Blind

(dealing with sexism and SA) 

You came back from a press meeting and sat on the couch, placing your head on your hands.

"Doll, it's okay. These things don't always go to plan. I get hate all the time." He said as you groaned and looked at him.

"You get hate because you killed people, I get hate because I was born with a fucking vagina. I am so sick of this." You grumbled as Bucky sat beside you.

"You don't get it... I know you would always do your best to understand it, but you can't understand what I have to go through. With Nat it's different you know? Well for starters she doesn't have a period cause she has no uterus but she's pretty and sexy so no one bothers her. But, me... I'm not like that so people always have something to say about it." You muttered as Bucky gently rubbed your back.

"I think I get four days a month where I'm okay, and that is it. It's always ovulation, or periods or bloating, pain, bleeding, moods, hormones... There is so much I have to fucking deal with. Yet, I still do all the same training and missions as all of you guys. Everything is so much fucking harder for women, and what do we get? Hate and sexism. Sometimes I don't blame Wanda for going evil." You muttered as Bucky looked at you in shock.

"Y/N, don't say stuff like that." He said as you chuckled dryly.

"Can you fucking blame her? You killed so many people! And you got let off with a fucking slap on the wrist. Wanda controlled a few people and they wanted to burn her at the fucking stake!" You shouted as you stood up and began to pace.

"Buck, I get it, okay? You've been through hell, with Hydra and everything. You were hated because of something you did, but I am hated because I was born. I just need to fucking get this out because I am so sick of it!" You shouted, grabbing a vase and throwing it a wall.

"The constant comments from people, fucking kills me." You grumbled, sitting back down.

"You just need to not listen to it." He said as you laughed and shook your head.

"Buck, I've been fucking try to not listen since I was three years old. The first time someone fucking sexualised me." You replied, harshly.

"I get that it's hard, Y/N. But, it's hard for all of us. I mean, Peggy rose through the ranks and she never had episodes like this." He said as you slowly turned to face him.

"Because she would've been fucking fired, or killed, or fucking raped if she spoke up. Sometimes I forget when you were fucking born." You growl standing up before Bucky grabbed your wrist.

"You know I've been sexually abused too? It's not just women." He said before you slapped him hard across the face.

"Shut the fuck up! Oh my god, Bucky. I fucking know okay? And I am here for you one hundred percent, but the only time you bring up your assault is to fucking silence me! The only time you bring it up is when I talk about sexism. I'm sick of it, just leave me alone before I fucking stab you." You growled storming away and getting in the elevator.

Steve entered and looked at Bucky.

"I heard some of that..." Steve muttered as Bucky kicked the coffee table in anger.

"She's fucking infuriating!" Bucky said before he sat down.

Steve sighed and sat across from him.

"Bucky, Y/N sat down, upset and tried to explain how she felt and you basically invalidated her and told her she shouldn't be upset. How is that supposed to be good for her?" Steve asked as Bucky looked at him, still seething.

"Women were never like this, back in the day. They were fine, happy even." Bucky said making Steve groan and rub his head.

"Bucky... You need to take off the rose coloured glasses. The time we lived in was horrible. I saw first hand what Peggy went through. The countless abuses and assaults. I saw what my mother went through. Buck, they didn't have a choice and if they dared speak up their entire life was ruined. When Y/N talks about this stuff she isn't blaming you for being a man, she is asking for understanding and maybe some protection." Steve explained as Bucky sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

"Have I really been that blind?" Bucky muttered as Steve chuckled softly.

"Yeah, Buck. You've been very blind to all of this. We all get paid from Shield to keep up this superhero work, Y/N and Natasha were getting a lot less then all of us. And they still do from shield, but Tony uses his own money to close that gap. Did you know Natasha tried to make super hero suits specifically designed for women's bodies and shield said no? Do you even see what happens at these press meetings? Did you see the man grope Y/N? Did you hear the man who called her a slut?" He asked as Bucky looked at him in confusion.

"What...? Did that happen?" He asked making Steve sigh and shake his head.

"Yes, Bucky it happens all the time. The public barely accepts Sam as a superhero because he isn't white. There is a lot of work to do and you need to help." Steve said as Bucky nodded a little.

"Fucking hell... I've been such a dumbass." He grumbled before he got up to chase after you.

He found you up on the roof crying, you turned around and shook your head.

"Just fucking leave me alone." You muttered through your tears as Bucky gently hugged you.

"Fuck, I am so sorry Y/N. Steve spoke to me and I saw it from another perspective. I haven't even noticed the stuff you go through, I'm such an idiot." He whispered as you slowly cuddled into him.

"I've been really fucking blind, doll. And I am so sorry. I'm kind of glad I was blind at the meeting today otherwise I would've killed every man in there." He joked as you laughed softly.

"I want to learn about all of this. I'll do my best to understand it all, okay?" He said as you nodded a little.

"I just want you on my side." You whispered in response as he kissed your forehead.

"I'll always be on your side, I just need to do a better job."

#Mcu #Marvel #Avengers #Sexism #Feminism #Bucky Barnes #Bucky x Reader #Bucky Barnes x Reader #Steve Rogers #Steve Rogers is a feminist

[softestqueeen]

let me teach you pt.1

pairing: Steve Rogers x afab!reader x Bucky Barnes (can be read as gn!reader)

summary: You are a literature professor at university and your boyfriends decide to pay you a visit and listen to one of your lectures.

warnings: none, just fluff

wordcount: 1158 words

a/n: After some very shameless smut, I’m now back with some fluff, don’t worry you won’t have to miss the smut for long. And now: enjoy! <3

Since you were little it was always your dream to become a teacher. But it took very long for you to figure out what kind of teacher you wanted to become. Kindergarten? Pre school? Secondary School? Literary School? University? The options were endless, how would you ever be able to decide?

But when you grew older, the only logical option for you was to teach what you loved most and to pass on your passion to others. So, when you were 18, you decided to study English Literature in England. And even though you loved England you wanted to see more, so you moved to New York. For the last few years you have been working at Columbia in the English and Comparative Literature Department as a literature professor.

This semester you taught multiple classes but your favourite course was definitely feminist literature, as it was something you felt wasn’t represented enough in academia.

You’ve wanted to teach this specific course ever since you’ve started as a uni professor and now you finally got the chance to do it.

You didn’t have a lot of students in that specific course, but they were the perfect group. Always attentive, asking deep questions but still being able to fool around sometimes. Classes like this remind you, why you started teaching and why you loved it so much.

You were currently standing in said class, talking about the next book you are going to discuss, when suddenly the door to the lecture hall opened.

It was strange really. It didn’t happen often that students accidentally mistake your lecture hall for theirs, especially since it was the middle of the semester AND the middle of the lecture. But, as you can see, it still happened occasionally.

The class turned their attention to the door and suddenly two familiar men entered. Your boyfriends. You couldn’t hold in the little surprised gasp that left your lips.

You knew that they voiced the desire to visit you at work and listen to one of your lectures and you told them that they were always welcome. You just didn’t think that they would visit so soon.

Especially since you thought they were on a mission until tomorrow evening.

The jaws of your students dropped, but you only started to smile at seeing the super soldiers.

 Yup, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, Captain America and the former Winter Soldier, are your boyfriends. You still can’t believe it either but you were very happy about it. They entered with a apologetic smile.

“Sorry, we couldn’t find the right room, but it seems we’ve found it now.”, Bucky said with a teasing grin.

“Yea, Sorry, please just carry on, sweetheart.”, Steve told you after they both said down in one of free seats at the very front.

At the term off endearment, the jaws of you students dropped even wider, but you just carried on with your lecture.

“Where were we? Close your mouths or you’ll catch a fly! So as I was telling you,…”, you went on with your lecture and after a moment your student snapped put of it and started taking notes again.

You still had a good hour of your lesson left and Steve and Bucky were almost as attentive as your students. Taking notes, raising their hands and asking questions. The only difference was that your students don’t look at you with heart shaped eyes and loopy smiles, getting distracted from the lectures.

But you were not complaining about their attention. You always loved it when they looked at you like you were their world. They almost made you blush multiple times.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, and you dismissed your class for today, giving them new assignments to work on.

The boys still sat patiently and waited for you to finish up. They even offered to help and you let them clean your blackboard. When you packed up, Bucky insisted on carrying your bag and they escorted you to your office.

On your way there, you saw a lot of baffled and shocked expressions from people seeing your partners. You’ve gotten over the initial shock of seeing them, but it still amused you to no end to see that shock on others.

You entered your office and showed Bucky where to put you bag. You loved the way your office looked. Big dark bookshelves, overflowing with books, a worn out leather couch between them, a little coffee table in front of it, your Mahogony desk in the middle of the room, two leather chairs that matched the couch in front of it, your chair behind it and a lot of lamps that made the space even more cozy and even more you.

Your boyfriends started to explore your space, your books, your little trinkets and knickknacks that you had displayed in the room, while you sat down in your desk and pulled out the essays that you had to correct.

“You can sit down wherever you want, just be prepared, during my office hours, students often come in with questions and stuff. I thought you had a mission until tomorrow?”, you looked at them with a pointed look, they knew you were always worried when they were away and wanted to know when they would come back, “Anyways, you could have said something, then I would have prepared something more interesting than me talking about a book for one and a half hours.”

Steven was the first to speak up. “I loved hearing you talk about something you’re so passionate about. An we’re really sorry, we didn’t know that we would get home earlier either, but when we found out we thought we’d surprise you. Was that not okay?”, he asked, worry etched into his face.

“No, no, of course that’s okay. You know, you’re always welcome in my lessons, both of you.”, you immediately assured him, smiling.

They smiled back and settled into the couch, both with one of your books in their hands, as you got started with correcting the essays of your students. It took a bit longer, because you preferred to do it by hand, always annoying your students by asking them to write it on paper or at least print it out.

They were quiet and when students came in with problems even left the room to give you space to concentrate.

When your office hours were over, you were done with correcting and decided to join the boys on the couch. You sat down in-between them, and cuddled into them.

For a while you stayed like this, Steve with his arms around your shoulder, you leaning your head against Bucky’s shoulder, going further down until your laying half on top of him, your head on his chest while he had his flesh hand on your thigh.

You bathed in the comfort of your men, a comfortable silence settling over you.

To be continued…

Part 2!

a/n: I will definitely post a part 2 with smut! If you enjoyed this, please consider leaving some notes, likes, reposts and comments with feedback are always very appreciated! <3

#fluff #mcu #love #stucky x reader #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #marvel #university au #columbia #columbia university #english literature #feminism #feminist literature

[itsdanyy]

Roses are red thanos meant no harm, i wanna draw stars on bucky’s metal arm

#Roses are red violets are blue i wanna be bucky’s housewife so bad and tie his shoe #hiding in the hashtags because the feminist in me #bucky barnes #bucky #marvel #james bucky barnes

[bbyboybucket]

When I remember how unfair it is I’ll never get to let my man (not real) know I love him and give him a million hugs and kisses

#the girls should not be punished this way #it’s anti feminist truly #bucky barnes

[beautiful-monsters-raging]

Just a guy, his best girls, and a bunch of idiots wasting their time. Bucky doesn’t mind though, as long as he can help the ladies keep lookin’ sharp in peace.

#pro choice #pro choice fiction #reproductive rights #feminist #pro choice writing #pro choice prose #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #captain america #the avengers #marvel #mcu #mcu fanfiction #mcc fanfic rec #abortion #planned parenthood #james buchanan bucky barnes #bucky #james barnes #captain america the winter soldier #crack #support #winter soldier fanfiction #winter soldier fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fandom

[booksandabeer]

Ramblings on Fandom: Peggy Carter, Steve Rogers, Delusional Shippers, and Alleged Misogyny

So with the release of Season 2 of What If…? emotions are once again running high, the outrage is outraging, and people are up in arms about the whole Captain Carter situation. While I do think that some reactions are a little overblown, even needlessly aggressive in tone to the unfortunate detriment of their otherwise convincing arguments, I share the confusion and frustration about the sudden centering of a long-dead & never excessively popular character, the sidelining of the Steve-Bucky friendship, and the as-inexplicable-as-it-is-total exclusion of Sam Wilson as Captain America. However, I’m not here to talk about the show because (1) I haven’t watched this season and have no plans to (why waste time torturing myself with something I know I’ll hate?) and (2) other people have already written dozens of metas about it, so what could I possibly add at this point.

What I do want need to talk about (lest I explode) is something that has irritated me for a long time and that is now happening again: Every time someone even mildly criticizes Peggy Carter, expresses doubts about her suitability as a heroine, or even just questions her disproportionate importance to the franchise post-EG, inevitably a certain section of fans will come out of the woodwork to immediately throw around accusations of misogyny and yell about how we’re all just a bunch of delusional Stuckies who are mad that she got "in the way" of our ship. Sigh.

This is gonna be a long one, so I’ll put it under a cut. Rant incoming. You've been warned. If you don't want to read, simply scroll on by.

First of all, let me state very clearly that I’m not debating the existence of misogyny and sexism in fandom spaces—or in the media from which these fandoms originate. At all. It exists, it’s a thing, I’m not denying that. Which is exactly why it frustrates me endlessly to see these accusations thrown around as a gotcha! argument to shut down any and all critical debate around a female character. All it does in the end is escalate rhetoric and radicalize attitudes.  

In the case of Peggy Carter, specifically her treatment by Stucky shippers, I’ve always found 'misogyny as a motive' to be a largely unsubstantiated accusation.¹ Now, I neither presume nor do I want to speak for the entirety of Stuckynation, so I will not claim that there aren't corners of the fandom where people discuss her in ways that I find off-putting and deeply unserious, but I will say this: If you genuinely believe that disliking one (1) fictional female character equals “hating all women” and wanting to suppress and marginalize their presence in fiction and real life alike—then I think we need to take that word away from you until you’ve learned its true meaning.

You might also want to ask yourself how exactly reducing a female character to a mute trophy wife or a heroine who has to act out her love interest’s recycled storylines helps your feminist fight.

As to the “standing in the way of your ship” part of the argument. Very simply put: No character can stand in the way of something if there never ever was “a way” to that something to begin with. “Being mad” implies that there was a reasonable expectation that wasn’t met, a substantive hope that was crushed. Now, I’ve said this before and I’ll gladly say it again a million more times: No Stucky shipper in their right mind ever truly thought that there was even the slightest chance that Marvel Studios owned by the Walt Disney Company would allow Steve “Captain America” Rogers and Bucky “Winter Soldier” Barnes to be canonized as an explicitly romantic pairing in their billion dollar franchise. Be serious. That was never in the cards. I wish we all lived in a world where it was, but we don’t, and it wasn’t. The best we could ever hope for was for Steve and Bucky to get a good, satisfying, in-character ending. And if, in Steve’s case, that would’ve included hints (or more) about a possible rekindling of his, uh, aborted romance with Sharon—then so be it. But we never got any of that. The characters never got any of that. Instead they sent Steve into 1950s suburban hell, literally trapped him behind a white picket fence, and condemned him to a life of passivity and lies, all so he could be married to a woman he barely knew a long time ago in a completely different world; who built and ran a top-to-bottom Hydra-infested organization, but apparently never noticed that there was anything wrong with her life's work. For decades. Great. As for Bucky—well, we’ve all seen the devastatingly grim-faced, utterly lonely, and deeply sad version of him that was presented to us in TFATWS. Happy endings all around, I guess.

So. Am I mad that Steve didn’t get to ride into the rainbow-colored sunset with Bucky at the end of EG? No. Because that was never going to happen anyway. Would I have been mad had he ended up with Sharon or another female character in the 21st century? Also no. Granted, I wouldn’t have been ecstatic about it, but mad? No. But am I mad that Steve ended up with this specific female character under these specific circumstances as presented in canon? Fuck yeah, I am.

The thing is: I personally believe Steve and Peggy to be fundamentally incompatible when it comes to the way they view the world and their respective places in it; their morals and values; their capacity for compassion and empathy; their ability and willingness to compartmentalize, compromise, and collaborate with people and institutions whose ethics and/or politics do not align with their own. I have a real hard time believing that a relationship between these two (or worse, a hasty marriage) could be either happy or long-lasting.

I don’t believe Peggy to be inherently evil, I don’t hate her, I simply think she operates within a different moral framework than Steve (and even genuinely believes it to be a righteous one).² Your mileage may vary, but I personally happen to find that framework reprehensible, even indecent, and ultimately dangerous. After all, over the course of the 20th century, we have seen exactly where that kind of “the ends justify the means” brand of pragmatism leads—over and over again. Not to mention that the people who use this line of argument to defend characters like Peggy (or real-life politicians for that matter) never seem to want to look too closely at who gets to define what "the ends" are in the first place and who decides when they've finally been met.

(Never. The answer is never.)

And to be clear, there is absolutely nothing wrong with depicting, and even centering a narrative around a morally (dark)gray character—oftentimes it’s actually the more interesting option—but you cannot at the same time claim that they are purely good and should be only admired as such when their actions literally tell an entirely different story.

So, no. I will not accept Peggy Carter as the shining aspirational heroine that the MCU so badly wants to sell her to me as—while simultaneously continuing to reveal things that paint an increasingly darker picture of her character. And I will certainly not celebrate seeing one of my favorite characters of all time—whose defining trait was that he couldn't ignore "a situation pointed south"; who used to fight for the little guy and against the establishment; who once said about the very organization that Peggy Carter helped build that it was so corrupt, it all needed to go—rendered morally inert for some hollow happy ending that may as well be a conservative’s wet dream full of false nostalgia for an America that never really existed. I cannot find it in me to be anything less but mad about that.

But that does not make me a misogynist. It does not make me a delusional shipper. It makes me someone who looks at what the MCU has been telling me about Peggy Carter for years now—over and over again—and takes it at its own word.

--------

¹ If you’ve actually read a a fair number of Stucky(!) fanfics you will have noticed that the reverence afforded to and "page time" devoted to her character and her relationship with Steve is somewhat disproportionate to anything that's backed up by canon—well, up until EG, where she was suddenly reanimated as The Great Love of Steve’s Life—and in my experience, it's highly unusual for any fandom to put so much (mostly) positive attention on another character, let alone a potential love interest that is not part of the endgame ship.

² I also want to emphasize that if you love Peggy and she's your fave: good for you! I genuinely have no beef with you. People can agree to disagree. All I ask for is that we maybe stop willfully ignoring the less savory aspects of her character. You don't need to pretend she's perfect to justify your affection for her. I LOVE Steve, and yet I have no problem conceding that he is FAR from perfect.

#*drops post & runs away* i may regret this but it's my blog and i rant if i want to #i know some people will roll their eyes & i debated posting this at all but i simply had to get it off my chest once and for all. #so there. now i can be free. or something. #also i have no idea what to tag this & i personally find 'anti' tags silly bc why is critical discussion automatically labeled as 'anti'? #but whatever i'll play nice. so i guess: #anti peggy carter #anti steggy #anti endgame #hope that covers it #wading into the dIsCoUrsE

[graendoll]

What if...? season 2 really solidified my absolute hatred of Captain Peggy Carter.

Where the fuck is Sam Wilson? Marvel really needs to stop pushing this colonizing white lady as their big girl boss lead. She's not interesting.

I 100% believe the showrunner for What if...? is living out her self insert fantasies. Which hey, a good self insert has its time and place but not when you're the executive producer of a whole ass show.

And I repeat, where the FUCK IS SAM WILSON? I know we're waiting for Cap 4 and he got his series with Bucky but this bitch keeps showing up and Marvel has been radio silent on Sam.

And yeah, I'm a terrible feminist because I can't stand Captain Carter being so unbelievably overpowered and stealing the story beats and even ACTUAL LINES from the existing characters. Yes absolutely. That's definitely what this is. 🙄

#where is sam wilson #sam wilson captain america #what if? s2 #anti peggy carter #anti captain carter

[fictionismyreality3]

How Steve Flirts

Warnings: romance and everything that comes with it

Notes: that’s americas ass. 🤩🦅 OMG I DIE FOR BEARDED STEVE ROGERS LIKE PLEASE HAVE MY-

literally peak gentleman what more could you ask for

the epitome of 40s romance

unlike buck, he hasn’t really gotten with the times and his flirting style reflects that

it takes him a second to realize that he likes you because he’s so used to romance being a privatized thing

when he does though it hits him over the head like a ton of bricks

I fully believe that he goes to Bucky for advice (let’s face it we all know who got the boys girls)

is painfully obvious 😭 like to the point when he’s blushing n stuttering around you

after a while though remembers how to breathe when you’re in the same room

wikihows ‘how to know if your crush likes you’

his love language is definitely words of affirmation and gift giving

always complimenting the tiny things that no one else sees

“Your new perfume is nice, doll.” “My new.. oh, you noticed that?” “Of course.”

he gets lost in his thoughts about you 🤭which leads to him zoning out staring at you

starting drawing again when he got out of the ice, and now he’s using his skills to impress you

expect candid sketches of you showing up on your desk or in your room

you always think he makes you look better than you actually do but that’s just how he sees you

lives by the belief that women are supposed to be respected feminist queen

always insists on carrying everything for you (a little part of him wants you to be impressed)

learns your favourite shows or movies and figures out how to work the tv so he can watch them with you

he’s not used to pda, but will keep an arm around you in public because he wants you to feel safe

I don’t think he gets angry easily, but his temper is wire thin when it comes to you

if you so much as flash an uncomfortable look he’s already up in the face of whoever’s bugging you

calmly furious so much so that it’s scary 😩

“I think you should leave, son.” “C’mon, she was asking for it dressed like that.” “Get the fuck out.”

will politely 🤗 break a nose for you

he’s extremely attentive your mood, and gives you little doodles when he sees you’re sad

did I mention he’s a PERFECT gentlemen

#steve rogers #headcanon #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n

[queerextremity]

i think one of the reasons i really like steve is the fact that he contradicts everything that you initially thought should be true about him. I’m not just talking of how i, before watching the cap trilogy, expected him to be some sort of walking toxic masculine propaganda, but he ended up being quite the opposite of that—that's already been discussed many times. i’m talking about all the subtle ways his storyline is written. when you think about it (and that’s probably the reason why steve is a very “safe” male character to me), he kinda goes through a character development that’s archetypically usual for female characters.

trying to fit in within the army, being rejected and mocked because you’re weaker and different, but later proving your strength by staying kind, persistent and clever is a story many old feminist media pieces used. i think of that scene from the first movie when peggy, after steve tells her about his life, says she knows what it’s like to have the doors closed for her. she does point out the reason why so many women are so passionate about steve (and why he’s really popular within the lesbian community, where attraction doesn’t really play a part). and i think it’s just so fundamentally different from the way i expected to read his story—as a typical patriotic male-centered superhero movie—and why it stuck with me when I saw it.

and i know we’re all joking calling bucky a damsel in distress, but when you think about it, he really does fit into the archetype of a superhero love interest. and steve does spend a lot of time trying to save him. and i, the great hater of this trope, find myself loving them tremendously. the thing is that, outside of their relationship, bucky has his own complicated and deep character conflict, and you would care about him no matter how the story handles him. in a world where such superhero love stories usually require the hero to be strong and powerful, and the love interest to be helpless and bleak, we have the cap trilogy. it plays with so many tropes that are so outdated even for superhero cinema that they should get boring, but it makes them interesting, dynamic and complex and refreshing.

that’s where it becomes impossible to ignore the romantic undertones of their story, because a lot of it is just familiar like that. adding that they are much more emotional in their relationship than the bros can handle. so we’re probably stuck with people trying to prove something to themselves by discussing steve’s sexual life in she-hulk, for example. it’s just that our society isn’t ready to accept male characters who are vulnerable and humane to their very core, and that’s another interesting way to look at these movies.

#mcu #steve rogers #julia rambles and screams #bucky barnes #stucky #steve rogers meta

[heavenhatesme]

This fight didn't start because the people are hungry, not because they are unemployed, not because they have no hope, no future, not because the corruption is out of control, not because the people in power have stolen all the money from oil, gas, ressources. No. It started because one 22 year old girl Mahsa Amini died for not covering her hair. It started for women. Now Men are out there fighting, risking their lives shoulder to shoulder with women. Their mothers, wives, friends, lovers, sisters and daughters. This is the world we need. Everyone standing up, for each other. Against oppression, against ignorance. Long live the spirit of Iran which never dies. Long live this country and its people. After hundreds of years of oppression, they still have a heart of gold that burns in dignity and caring love for one another. Long live people of Iran🇮🇷🕊

🔴Trigger Warning for the video🔴

#iran #iran protests 2022 #mahsa amini #feminist #feminism #human rights #women #coronavirus #cats #animals #anime #attack on titan #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes #marvel #mcu #steve rogers #avengers #booknerd #bookaholic #fashion #modelling #stranger things #harry potter #harry styles #mcc #autumn #photography #mbti

[artficlly]

the shadow (miniseries - part one)

Post Endgame Avengers AU miniseries - part one

avenger!bucky x widow!reader avenger!yelena x widow!reader (platonic)

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

Reader is an ex-black widow sniper who escaped the Red Room with the help of Yelena and Natasha. After working as an illegal hired gun, Yelena recruits the reader to the team as a sniper. The reader is closed off, not wanting to form connections or friends with anyone. Though, as their shell begins to crack, they notice they have a lot in common with a certain Bucky Barnes.

Warnings: violence, death, wound descriptions, lots of blood and gore, mention of weapons, swearing, low self-esteem reader, mentions of past non-con, lots of angst. lmk if anything needs to be added.

Word Count: 6.8k

A/N: hi! this is a pretty angsty/gorey fic I've had in my brain for awhile now. i don't know if many people will vibe with this, so might just be written for my weird interests lol. i think this will be two, maybe three parts? I just wanted something a bit more intense to work on alongside face the music (which is a more wholesome college au multi chapter fic). I'm very interested in exploring the 'what if' side of what happens to all the widows once they escape. I am also a sucker for feminist readings/feminine rage so this is a fun outlet. I have some plans for more ex-widow content (maybe longer series) but i wanted to get this mini-series up as a sort of taster! there isn't a heap of bucky barnes content in this part, but oh boy, there is some coming in the next part!! not proof read - pls forgive any typos.

main masterlist

Many unexpected things had happened during your life, even before you were old enough to understand how unexpected they were. 

Firstly, you had been torn from your birth family at a young age. You never knew if your family had willingly given you up. You had heard tales of starving mothers, selling their children in order to survive. Other tales said that the mothers refused to sell their children. Though, a mothers love was not enough to sustain through the Russian winters. Those mothers died for the love of their children, but regardless their children were still taken by the Red Room. 

Others whispered that the women of the Red Room were specifically chosen for their genetics, hunted down and stolen. There was no regard for a mothers love, only the possibility of another weapon to create. 

Deep down you could hope that your mother had loved you. 

You would never know. 

The second unexpected thing to happen in your life was when you escaped. Much like the other Widows, you had spent most of your life under the control of men. You had been a weapon, faceless, deadly. You had survived the training that many didn’t and that was the only thing that made you of value. The discovery of a life beyond the Red Room? A life beyond what you had been crafted for? Freedom was more frightening than any mission or task you had undertaken. 

With the Red Room gone, thanks to Yelena Belova and Natalia Alianovna? You were purposeless. You were a small ship, lost at sea. You were a small ball of rock, hurtling through space, burning up and dying out. There was no reason for you to exist, there was no life for you. You were a killer, a monster. Why did you deserve peace? How could you ever find peace with all the blood on your hands? You were raised to be a killer, and a killer you were. 

In the Red Room you were The Shadow. A faceless sniper, one of the best in the world. You did your job, and you did it well. Even after you were freed, you continued to work as a sniper to find some meaning. You were good at disconnecting from your emotions. Taking the shot wasn’t one to sweat, you floated above your body and pulled that fucking trigger. 

The people who hired you didn't know your name. They didn’t see your face. You were a weapon and you would kill without question. A father, a mother, a child? It didn’t make a difference to you. It was just another target. Even if you were free from Dreykov, you were still the weapon he had built you to be. As much as you tried, as much as you fought, screamed and cried. You were a Widow, a faceless killer, a nobody, a Shadow. 

The third unexpected thing to happen in your life was Yelena Belova. She was a force, hurtling into your life. You had never expected it. You thought once she freed all the Widow's it would be over. She wouldn’t need to associate with her fellow Widows anymore. She was a hero, she made it big. She would become an Avenger like Natalia. Start over, fresh face, new name. Natalia, Natasha. She had been a hero, she had freed all of the Widows. You? You were a gun for hire, bottom of the barrel scum. 

Yet, there Yelena had stood, reaching out to pull you from the snake pit. 

You had been hired for an inside job, some drug deal with the potential to go very wrong. You were to keep watch, blow out the brains of their competitor if necessary. You didn’t think into the ethics, you just shot who you were told to shoot. You should’ve known Yelena would keep tabs on you, you should’ve known that day would come. Even if you were nameless and faceless, you were still a weapon. The world doesn’t just lose weapons, no, they either used them or prayed for their untimely death. 

The deal went messy, as anticipated. You went to shoot but a foot was on your rifle making you pause. 

“You’re getting sloppy, Shadow.” The blonde had tutted at you. “I have been standing here, for what? Two minutes? You didn’t even see me.” 

You didn’t know why her speaking Russian shocked you so much. You had spent so many years dealing with Americans and Europeans that you had slipped into the comfort of English too easily. You had just assumed that the world of superheroes had Americanised Yelena, like they had Natasha. But there she was, Yelena fucking Belova in the flesh. Your third unexpected thing. 

“Come to tell me off for being a bad girl, Belova?” You teased, hand subtly finding the knife at your thigh out of instinct. You doubted Yelena had come here to kill you, you had heard through the grapevine about her little mission. She had spent two years freeing Widows across the globe. Though, you couldn’t help but notice that Yelena was armed to the teeth. Knives and guns tucked into hidden pockets through her black suit. You had heard she had become an Avenger - well atleast what was left of the team. Stepping into Natasha's role, she wanted to do good so bad. You could never be that, a hero. You weren’t meant to be anything other than another man’s blade or bullet. 

After Steve Rogers death, the Avengers had spiraled for a time. Eventually, Sam Wilson had taken up the mantle. A few had followed, Bucky Barnes, Clint Barton, his protégé Kate Bishop as well as Yelena. You didn’t even know if they called themselves ‘The Avengers’ anymore, only that they acted like them. Seemed they were running off the left-overs of Stark’s money as well as government funding. You had heard rumors about Scott Lang or even Steven Strange still floating around. After Wanda Maximoff had gone near-insane, the world had turned a cruel eye on their heroes. Even if they had been the only ones to save them from The Blip. People - your people - they didn’t want to be classed as heroes anymore, but somehow they were still committed to ‘doing good’. 

“I could tell you off,” Yelena drawled, eyes following your every move. You were on your knees now, slowly rising from the lying position you had held. If Yelena was a predator, you were certainly her prey. Unfortunately for her, you were also a predator when cornered. Outside, you could hear gunshots overlapping each other, shouting and grunting. It hurt that it annoyed you, that Yelena would be inadvertently ruining your reputation. You always made the shot, always. Except this time. You supposed being held up by Yelena fucking Belova was a better excuse than missing your shot. No, now that would be embarrassing and reputation destroying. The Shadow missing a shot? Unheard of. 

“I want to offer you a job. Could be a one time thing, could be more. Pays better than whatever this is, and is certainly more legal than whatever this is.” Yelena continues her spiel. She had palmed a knife, waving it as she spoke for extra effect. It was a hunting knife, sharpened to perfection. You didn’t like to imagine how the serrated edge would feel cutting into your flesh. 

“Your jobs barely qualify as legal,” You snip back, carefully eyeing her movements. Was she signaling someone through the window? The glare of the sun against the blade would surely be visible outside. There could be an entire team outside waiting to take you down. Yelena could just be the distraction. Your hand tightens around the handle of your own knife, ready to pull it from its holster at the slightest indication of an ambush. 

“Everything is legal if you work for the right people,” Yelena cuts back, tilting her head as she observes you. Time was ticking, you knew this could go one of two ways. You really hoped it wouldn’t end with one of you bleeding out on the floor. You had respect for Yelena, for what she and Natasha had done. 

“What if I say no?” You ask, russian muffled through your mask. You always wore them on jobs, always. You were a faceless weapon, mixing your identity in would not help you shoot better. Yelena smirks at you, finger running down the blade of her knife. She looked so casual, leaning against the window sill without a care in the world. She was definitely better armed than you. Your ears strain, trying to hear if someone is climbing the stairs of the building. All you can hear is the scuffle of the deal downstairs in the alley. 

“The government is interested in you. They don’t have a name yet, just… a shadow of a person to look for. Ex-Widow, a hired gun. I can make it go away. I know powerful people.” You could see her teeth through her smirk as she spoke. It was a thinly veiled threat. Pull your shit together, you’ve drawn too much attention to yourself. No, this was the difference between you and Yelena. She had cared, she had become the hero she had needed. You had stayed the same monster, spiraled further into your own hatred and disgust. You had become the person people needed saving from. Yelena cared so much about every Widow that the idea of one slipping through the cracks? It would haunt her. She was warning you, giving you a way out. She wanted to help you. 

The shouting and gunshots outside had died down, now only the sound of several sirens approaching. Time was still ticking and you were running out.

“Make your choice quickly, Shadow. Make it wisely though, I really don’t want to kill you.” Yelena purred. You eyed her for a long moment, carefully getting to your feet. Despite her cold exterior, the way she tried to be intimidating… You could see the pleading in her eyes. She wanted you to come with her, she wanted to help you. But you couldn’t help but wonder if you deserved saving? 

So many years, so many dead bodies. The only thing that kept you going was your strength, your reluctance to die. But after so many years of running, so many years of being alone… was there a reason to keep fighting? That sickness, it clawed away in your brain. You didn’t deserve saving. 

The sirens drew nearer. Reluctantly, you spoke. Even if that sickness was strong, your stubbornness and desire to breathe was stronger. You would live out of spite. You would live just to spit in the faces of those who wanted you dead. If you were going to die, it would be on your own terms. 

“Who am I shooting?” You ask, reaching out your gloved hand for Yelena to shake. Yelena must feel some kind of relief, you see her shoulders droop every-so-slightly as she shakes your hand.

“That list seems to be endless these days.” She replies with a grin. 

—

The small rural town was desolate. A ghost town, Yelena had said. A ghost town that had become infested with vermin.

Remnants of society still remained. You could imagine the ghosts of people passing by as you navigated through the landscape. A cracked concrete road, overgrown with weeds. The apartment buildings with their windows smashed out, graffiti scrawled across crumbling stone. Billboards years out of date, forgotten band-posters peeling off walls and lampposts. You couldn’t say who once lived here - but whoever they were, they were most certainly gone or dead. 

You were positioned on the second-floor of a disintegrating school house. The building itself was several stories higher but you had taken one look at the unstable staircase and thought better of it. Ripped, stained curtains blew lightly in the wind, at the front of the room a cracked blackboard still had the date July 17th, 1994 scrawled across it. 

You were in your usual working gear. Your suit was tight and flexible for ease of movement, adorned with pads on the knees, elbows and shoulders. Your hands were clothed with fingerless gloves and most importantly you wore your mask. A belt holds a handgun, lower down some straps across your thighs hold knives and pockets for convenience. They were for if things got messy, your real weapon was tossed over your back - a duffle bag with your sniper rifle inside.  

Broken glass crunched under your combat boots as you cautiously approached the window. The building you had chosen was strategic. Across from you was an old office building, just as run down as the one you stood in. Unlike the school house, the old office housed a group of criminals. 

Sam Wilson had insisted that he didn’t want to kill them, that he just wanted to talk to them. He wanted to talk them down and tell them to surrender peacefully. If things turned messy, he would give you the signal and you would shoot. The two groups would be standing in the concrete courtyard between the two buildings. At the slightest chance of danger, the slightest chance they weren’t ready to surrender? You would pull the trigger and pop their leader's skull open. 

Sam Wilson and his crew hadn’t been happy to see you when Yelena had brought you to the aircraft for transport. He had taken one look at you, masked, all in black and imploded. 

“Yelena, who the hell is this?” Sam had snapped. Yelena had just laughed at him, motioning for you to sit and buckle in next to her on the aircraft. 

“You told me to get a sniper!” 

It seemed when Sam Wilson had asked for a sniper, he hadn’t asked for you. Ex-widow, criminal, The Shadow. When Yelena had introduced you with your alias, Kate Bishop had gaped at you. Bucky Barnes was tense, you would’ve been surprised if he hadn’t recognised your name. Clint Barton seemed neutral, you supposed he was used to dealing with deadly women. 

You found it ironic how upset Sam Wilson was. He had helped Steve Rogers save Bucky Barnes, The Winter Soldier. You supposed the difference was that Barnes had tried to change when he was freed. Despite the mind control, the torture… he wanted to do good. You were just damaged beyond repair. Sitting there, with those heroes? It made you feel sick. Playing dress up, that’s all it was. 

You had over 700 confirmed kills with your rifle, even more kills if you counted other weapons at your disposal. You were an assassin, a hitwoman, a fucking menace. Bucky Barnes would have more total kills than you, but he had stopped killing. He had felt remorse. You had kept killing, kept digging that hole because it was all you knew how to do. He had been a normal boy before the war. You were a killing machine, a girl robbed of a childhood. If you hadn’t been freed, would have even known about the childhood you had missed? You didn’t remember your mother, nor if you had any siblings. All you had known was cruelty. 

Brushing some of the broken glass away with your foot, you began setting up your rifle. Through the ear-piece you could hear the chatter of the rest of the team as they headed to their spot. You had gone ahead to set up, they were about 20 minutes away from the school house. Gun at the ready, you lay down on your stomach, eye to the scope. 

“In position, over.” You mutter into the ear piece. 

“Copy that, over.” Sam Wilson replied quickly.

You settled into your spot, watching the building ahead. You were a good sniper not only because of your ability to disconnect, but also because of your levels of patience. You had spent days in this exact position, waiting, sweating for your chance at a target. 

By the time the others were in position, you had counted every window in the building across from you. 25 per story, making it 125 all together for all 5 stories. There was movement on the bottom floor and the second. You assumed they didn’t go any higher due to the same reason as you - a crumbling staircase. Each window had blue curtains - different to the beige ones in your room. Nearly all the windows were smashed, except for on the top story that seemed to remain relatively untouched. 

Through the ear-piece you could hear what Sam was saying. Both groups stood in the center of the courtyard, hands on their undrawn weapons. The new generation of Avengers were outnumbered 5 to 1. The tenison was clear, even as Sam tried joking around with the opposing leader. Everything was going smoothly, exactly as planned. That was, until you saw a glint in one of the third story windows. 

You thought you imagined it at first - a trick of the eye. But then you saw it again, and then a third time. There was another sniper, trained directly on Sam Wilson. You didn’t feel stressed by this, it was just another complication in a high-tension mission. It made sense, you had anticipated that maybe your targets would be smart enough to bring a sniper to this ‘talk’. The other sniper was up slightly higher than you - you wouldn’t be able to get a good hit on him unless you went up another couple stories. 

“There’s a sniper, third story. Sixth window to the left.” You breathed into the comms, fully knowing the rest of the team wouldn’t be able to verbally respond. If the opposing side got any indication that you were up there? Game over. They would signal their sniper to take the shot on Sam. It would take hours to pick bits of his skull out of their clothes and hair. 

“I need to change positions to get a better look, keep him talking.” You continue. Slowly, you roll away from the window and drag your gun with you. You needed to keep to the shadows, become a shadow literally. If the sniper spotted you it would be over. 

With a quiet grunt, you pull the gun from the room. Pressing your back against the hallway wall, you quickly rise to your feet and head towards the staircase with a huff. Sam was still rambling on about peaceful surrender over the comms ear-piece, stalling until you could get a better look at the sniper. 

The stairs wobbled and shook as you moved up them quickly and quietly as possible. You could hear chunks of wood and stone crumbling from beneath and falling with each step you took. Opting for the 4th story, you quickly set up in position by a new window. Same torn, beige curtains and shattered glass across the floor.

From this position you had a better look into the third story windows. Looking down, you could see the outline of a body laid flat with the rifle, much like your own position. Due to the broken windows and ripped curtains, you had a fairly clear shot at the figures head as they trained all their focus on what was happening below. 

“I’m going to shoot the sniper first, he has a shot on you Wilson. I’ll still have a clear shot on the target, just might take a moment.” You explain. They don’t reply, as expected. The situation below seems to be growing tense, you can hear the tone of the target's voice growing more aggressive by the second. Lining up your shot on the sniper, you hold your breath. Sam says the signal word. 

You pull the trigger. 

As the shot rings out, the men below scatter. You can hear the rest of the team screaming at you through your ear-piece. It all gets jumbled up, just white noise in your brain as you line up your next shot. This was why you usually worked alone. You didn’t crack under pressure in a situation like this, but having screaming ringing in your ear was bringing you damn near to it. You can’t be bothered listening to what they are yelling about. You didn’t need them telling you that your target was seconds away from escaping your bullet. Didn’t they know you never missed? 

The target was a few feet away from the safety of the building. Chunks of flesh, skull and brains explode across the cracked concrete as you pull the trigger once more. Through the scope, you watch the body slump to the ground, a pool of blood quickly spreading around the corpse. 

“Holy shit!” You hear Kate yell through the ear-piece. You don’t know if she’s complementing your shot or reacting to the spray of blood up the side of the opposite building. The last of the men who scattered stepped over the body, disappearing into the office building. 

“There's another headed for the sniper rifle, Shadow!” Yelena shouts at you through comms. Her and Clint have breached the office, you can see the shape of them fighting through the broken windows. 

“Got it,” You mutter back. You cast a glance at where Sam and Bucky were fighting out in the open. Bucky seems swarmed, trying to shake a man who has wrapped his arms around his throat. You make a silent note of it, casting your scope back to the third story window. The figure that rushes to replace the dead man is quickly taken out by your rifle. He doesn't even get a chance to touch the rifle before his blood paints the wall behind him. 

No one else makes a dash for the sniper rifle. You turn your gaze back to the courtyard, noticing that Bucky is still swarmed by several men. Sam has been pulled too far away from him to help. You can’t see Kate anymore, but from the yelling coming through the comms she is inside the office with Clint and Yelena. 

One of the opposers has picked up a hand-gun and is pointing it squarely at Bucky’s chest as he struggles to get out of the grip of the other men holding him down. Sam barrels towards them, but you know he won’t make it in time. You huff out a sigh, lining up the dangerous shot. You knew if this bullet was at the slight wrong angle it could ricochet directly into Bucky’s chest. 

Is this why Yelena hired you? Because you would make dangerous shots without permission, without regard for human life? Bucky was a super soldier, he could probably survive several gunshot wounds (provided they weren’t directly to the head). Maybe if you cared you would’ve been nervous. Maybe you would’ve hesitated, let your hands shake and sweat. But you don’t care. You disconnect from everything, the shouting through the comms, the sounds of gunshots, the feeling of metal against your skin. You’re not in your body, you are floating above yourself watching the auto-pilot take over. 

You squeeze the trigger. The hand-gun clatters to the ground alongside the attacker. Blood is slick against the paved stones. Through your scope, you swear it has splattered across Bucky’s gruff face. The men attacking Bucky stutter for a moment, giving him the opportunity to shake them off and pummel them with his metal fist. 

He doesn’t even acknowledge what you did.

He doesn’t even say thank you. 

—

One job turned into two. Then two turned into a few more. 

Six months you had been working with Yelena and her crew of disgraced Avengers. You weren't their friends. You didn’t celebrate after missions with them. You kept to yourself, cold and distant. They didn’t know your real name, they hadn’t even seen your face. Yelena would give you a call, pick you up, you would complete the mission, then you would return home. 

You were The Shadow. 

You weren’t a hero. 

Kate and Yelena tried to crack your shell. It usually involved joking and parading around you. All it would earn them was a roll of the eyes and a quiet sigh. Over the comms though, sometimes you would make quiet digs and quips. Clint would roar with laughter, Sam just muttering that he was surprised you had a personality under that mask. 

The mask. Oh, they hated it. 

They were all determined to see beneath it. They made up jokes, stories as to why you wore it. That you were hideously ugly, or scarred beyond human recognition. Bucky seemed to be the only one who understood. He was the only one who was equally as cold to you as you were to him. Your exchanges were brief, usually a series of single words and grunts. It was a relief having someone not trying for your affection at all times. 

Once again, you and your deadly skills were needed for a mission. Another one of Sam’s ‘discussions’ which usually ended with brains splattered across the floor. This time you were in a lightly forested clearing, somewhere in the Estonian wilderness. You were set up in the tree line, laying in a mixture of mud and dead leaves. 

The countryside was peaceful, but gray. Winter was setting in, leaves falling from the birch trees. Their pale trunks were pale against the gray sky that threatened to spill. The breeze was cool, not as cold as Russia had been. No, a Russian winter could be deadly especially the further north you got. You remembered the snow, the discomfort of the cold leaking into your bones. You hadn’t been allowed to complain then, only soldier on. 

“You in position, Shadow?” Yelena asked through the comms. You could see her lips moving through the scope as the group headed towards the designated meeting point. 

“Affirmative. Over.” You state, pushing the ear-piece in a bit further as you settle closer to the cold earth. Relaxing your shoulders with a sharp breath, you surveyed the area through your scope. 

A small group of men had come to meet the team. There were less men than you had anticipated, if a fight ensued it would be one on one. You didn’t like the opponents odds, they looked scruffy, only armed with low-caliber weapons. Definitely not the type to take on a group of superheroes and super soldiers. 

You felt dread sink into your stomach. Something… felt wrong here. Your target reportedly had tons of men at his disposal. It was deep into the Italian mafia, and if they had anything, it was an abundance of men. Where were they all? Was this an ambush? Were they hidden in the brush like you? You could take down a few targets, but you would be more successful with your knives and fists against a small army. Your mind races, along with your gaze as you try to piece it all together. 

“There is something wrong.” You speak into the comms, eyes flickering between Sam and the target as they stood in front of each other. You had done plenty of jobs with the group, all had gone smoothly. But something… something was terribly off here. You could feel it in your gut. The targets men looked antsy, shifting in place. They knew something. They were anticipating something. 

“There’s not enough men. I can’t spot them anywhere in the treelines. Either he’s stupid or this is a set-up.” You ramble into the ear-piece. They can’t respond to you, but you can tell they’re paying attention to your warning. Yelena’s eyes sweep the area, trying to spot more men hidden away somewhere. 

Then, from behind you, you hear the snap of a twig. You spin around, hand flying to your knife. Across from you stand a group of men, armed with shotguns. They’re close, closer than you had realized. You had been too busy trying to figure out where all the men were, trying to anticipate the ambush. You hadn’t realized their ambush was against you. 

This was why you didn’t make friends. Connections. You were too busy worrying about them to realize the immediate danger you were in. The butt of a shotgun cracks against the side of your head. 

Everything goes black. 

—

The mud was cold underneath you, biting into your skin. Your hands were tied, and throughout the intermittent black-outs you recalled being dragged through the dead leaves. You must have been stripped of your weapons, you couldn’t feel the metal of your knives and gun digging in anymore. 

You were bleeding from a head wound, and you were definitely suffering from some kind of concussion. You had touched that throbbing spot with your fingers, rubbing the slick feeling of blood between them. Even through the fabric of your mask, you could feel the sticky blood had spread down the side of your face and neck. A gun was pressed to the back of your skull.

How many men had there been? Had you had a chance to count before you were struck? Had you managed to warn the others before the ear-piece was shattered by the strike? You could still feel bits of plastic and metal digging into your ear along with a high-pitched ringing. You weren’t sure if the ringing was from the ear-piece or from the hit you had received. 

“You really thought I would stand in the open like this? Like a fool?” Your target joked, his Italian accent thick as he laughed heartily. You were kneeling next to him, eyes warily looking between him and the rest of your group who stood across from you. Sam and Bucky looked less than pleased, lips pressed together in tight lines. 

“Rumors have been all through the underground, The Avengers somehow managed to recruit The Shadow?” He continues, still laughing. “Only an idiot would put himself in the open. Taking a chance with The Shadow is asking to have your skull blown open. I am no fool, but maybe you are? Thinking that I would fall for your trick?” 

You can see Yelena trying to keep her cold face on, the one she had given you when she recruited you. It may have fooled the opposition, but you could see the concern in her eyes. She surveyed the mountain of men behind you like she was looking at her next meal. The barrel of the gun pressed harder against the back of your skull.

“We didn’t come here to kill you, we came here to negotiate your peaceful surrender.” Sam spoke up, voice gruff and cold. Behind him, you watched Clint’s fingers ghost over the string of his bow.

“Surrender? Why do you bring a sniper to a peaceful negotiation?” The Italian purred, motioning at you with one hand. His fingers were lined with gold rings, they caught the sunlight through the clouds. He had a gun tucked into his belt, a knife holstered on his hip. 

“You know why. Things get messy. Now, we can still negotiate. You let her go and you hand over your weapons. You will be arrested unharmed, along with all of your men. You’ll face a fair trial for your crimes, a chance at a fresh start.” Sam explained. You could practically hear the target losing interest during Sam’s spiel. You watched him fidget impatiently with those golden rings, the way his men shifted uncomfortably behind you. 

“No no.” Your target chuckled, running his fingers over his bushy black mustache. With the swish of his hand, he dismissed the man holding the gun to your head. His hands then found the back of your neck, tugging you to your feet. Fingers under your chin, he forces you to look into his eyes. “Why would I let her go? I didn’t come here to play games with you, Wilson. I came here because I wanted her. Because I knew she would be here.” 

You resisted a flinch as his fingers dug into the skin of your neck, slipping it under the fabric of your mask. With one tug, he pulled the fabric from your face. This had not been the way you had expected this to happen, the way you would reveal your face to the team. You didn’t want them to feel some kind of connection to you, or any kind of guilt if this ended with a bullet in your skull. 

If you had been able to look, you would’ve seen their shocked faces. How they quickly turned to rage on your behalf. You would’ve seen how Bucky’s eyes darted between looking at you and the ground, like he was witnessing something forbidden. 

You imagined you were a sight, blood smeared across your skin from the head wound. Your hair had been perfectly woven into a crown braid, just like how they taught you in the Red Room. It would be lopsided now, chunks pulled out of place and flyaways from being roughly tugged across the ground. That and the layers of mud caked into your clothing. 

“You know, Dreykov would sometimes leant out Widows to important men like me. You were all so beautiful and you all did exactly what you were told. Made to deliver pleasure. So many men, they would ask for you. To get a glimpse at the mysterious Shadow of the Red Room. Dreykov would never let us have you… 

We would wonder if it was because you were hideously ugly? If you had been scarred like his dear Antonia? But looking at you now, you are as beautiful as I imagined. I can’t help but wonder if Dreykov wanted to keep you for himself? He always said you had too much bite for your worth.”

Gaze still cast at the Italian, you don’t see the team's reaction to this. You wouldn't have seen  Yelena's composure slip, how Sam clenched his fist in rage. Instead you stared, silent fury boiling beneath your skin. 

“I wonder how it will feel to break you?” The target hissed. He watched as your blank expression slowly turned into a sneer. Without much thought, you spit a mixture of saliva and blood into his face with a ragged laugh. 

His face contorted in rage, reaching for the gun in his belt. You don’t dodge, willingly letting him strike you across the face with the metal. You stumble backwards, falling to your knees in the mud. Your lip is definitely split, blood dripping to the ground below you. You’re still laughing though, much to the collective horror of everyone. Sam opens his mouth to speak, to demand your release but you cut him off. 

“You men, you are so emotional. You’re so busy pulling out your cock to piss all over everything that you don’t see the small details.” You seeth at the target. He stares at you in shock, completely oblivious to what you have done. What you are about to do. His men, even your group don’t anticipate what is to come next. 

“What are the smaller details?” The target asks, you can sense misguided amusement in his tone.

You don’t reply. He doesn’t have a chance against you. You had already slipped out of your binds. He was so caught up trying to strike you, trying to prove himself a big and scary man, he hadn’t felt it. Your nimble fingers had wrapped around the knife on his hip, he hadn’t noticed how you had ripped it from its holster as you fell backwards. 

The Italian doesn’t get a chance to take another breath before you snap forwards, striking like a snake. You dig the blade into his thigh, purposefully nicking his artery. Blood gushes from the wound the moment you pull the blade back out.  

Things seem to move in slow motion - you see him react - eyes opening in horror and shock as he stumbles back. You are still on your knees, a feral smirk across your face. His gun lifts, intending to shoot but he is too late. Wrapping your hands around his wrists, you pull the gun to the side just as he pulls the trigger. 

The bang deafens you for a moment, ears ringing. The bullet grazes your ear, then lands directly into the stomach of one of his men behind you. The man wails, falling backwards, knocking a few more of the men off their feet in the process. You move quickly, using your body weight to twist the target's arms, flipping him onto his side into the mud. 

The gun falls to the earth with a thud. Your target doesn’t even get a glance at it before you’ve kicked it away in Sam’s direction. The Italian man groans on his back as he bleeds out. You get to your feet, ignoring the panicked shouts from his men beside you as you observe him. 

“You’re bleeding out from your femoral artery.” You explain to him roughly, tilting your head. His hair is thick, black and greasy. A sheen of sweat has come over his pale skin, eyes glazed over. 

“On average it takes two to five minutes to bleed to death from that artery. That’s if you don’t fall unconscious first. Let’s count, shall we? You spent…around thirty seconds swinging that gun around…another thirty listening to me talk…” You drawl. 

Stepping closer, you crouch next to his shivering body. He is trying to stop the bleeding, pressing shaking hands to the open wound. Blood has already begun to pool around him, ruby red and slick. You tut, pushing his hands away with the knife to watch the blood spurt out faster. 

“You have, what? A couple minutes left? Now tell me, before you slip away… When you see God, what will you tell him?” You ask, a feral expression still across your face as you watch his skin grow gray. 

“You fucking bitch!” Your target manages to choke out. You laugh, standing and swinging the knife around. 

“Oho, I don’t think he’ll like that.” You say. An almost animalistic growl leaves your throat as you raise your foot, kicking him squarely in the nose with your boot. He cries out, bone crunching. For a moment you stand there, watching the sniveling man. 

With a sniff, you run your hand roughly over your cheek, wiping some of the blood from your skin. Then, your gaze falls on the group of men left. They are watching you in silent horror. You can’t imagine what you look like, covered in blood and mud, armed with only a hunting knife. You assess them with a predator's gaze, menacing and bloodthirsty and the men cower back despite being armed with guns. 

“We don’t want any trouble.” One stutters out. 

For a moment, you forget the rest of your team are feet away. You consider letting the wrath consume you. You could tear these men apart with your hands, teeth and nails. You imagine plucking out their eyes, teaching them what happens to men who see your face. 

“Shadow.” Yelena calls you. Your eyes snap to hers. 

Pulled from your trance, you run a tongue over your split lip. The act is near animalistic, a cat tending its wounds. Then, with a shrug sent in Sam’s direction you stalk over to Yelena. Sam, to his credit, quickly composes himself and instructs the group of men to drop their weapons and line up. 

“Are you alright?” Yelena asks as you pause in front of her. You don’t feel like answering that question right now. 

If it weren’t for the cold wrath that had taken over your body, you would imagine you would be shaking. Men like that made your skin crawl, made you revert back to how you had felt in the Red Room. It made you sick to your stomach, knowing that despite everything men like that still existed. You would kill one man and another would grow in his place. You had been lucky to escape. That no matter what, there would always be more places like the Red Room. Even if they weren’t to breed killers and spies, they would still use the bodies of women. Powerful men would use their authority to control innocent girls for the rest of time. Those girls couldn't all be saved. They wouldn’t be saved. 

“I need to retrieve my gun.” You reply thickly, nodding your head in the direction of the treeline. Your knives and other gear would have also been abandoned nearby, that’s if the men hadn’t pocketed it for themselves. 

“Go ahead.” Yelena says, thankfully not pressing you on your emotional state. She seems to sense your unease and your unwillingness to hang around. You pass by her and a gaping Kate. You needed to clear your head before you faced the rest of them. With the mask, you could hide your emotions. Now, without it, you felt exposed. You wouldn’t let them see you crack. They would have been trained to sense the slightest change in your facial expressions, to be able to interpret exactly how you were feeling. 

“Shadow?” Yelena calls, you glance over your shoulder reluctantly. 

“Yeah?” 

“Nice to finally see you. The real you.” She says, a subtle grin tugging at her lips. 

All you can do is hum in response. Though, as you trudge towards the tree line, a small smile forms over your bloodied face. 

PART TWO

#bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes series #black widow #the black widow #natasha romanoff #yelena boleva #yelena x y/n #yelena x you #yelena belova x reader #marvel au #marvel fic #marvel #red room #the shadow

[elpis-simps]

Okay I just found out something. So we all know Captain Marvel. (BTW this post is for marvel fans) and her movie. I've watched that movie multiple times. Love it, I think it's written fairly well, great CGI, funny script, good lore and story, love how everything ties in, overall its a really good movie; and captain marvel is one of my favourite superheroes, and one of the most badass.

WHY THE F*CK do people think she's a "bad movie and bad superhero" like it's one of the really good B.E movies! (Before Endgame)

**I'm using B.E as Befoee Endgame because A.E (after endgame) is arguably the worse marvel era. Don't get me wrong, it has some great stuff in A.E, but B.E is just better overall.

Anyways, back to what I was saying. I think k Brie Larson was a great actress and did really well portraying the character Captain Marvel. Not to mention captain marvel was one of the overpowered superheroes in the B.E era, before they started making everyone OP to defeat big CGI villains and to make their movies more action packed to get more views and stuff. She had good plotline, good powers, cool backstory, funny, and genuinely one of my favourite female superheroes.

I would love to see her as the new face of the MCU, A.E. considering they killed off what was generally considered the "face" of the MCU, Iron Man and Captain America, they haven't put much focus on one or two specific people to be aforementioned face.

Captain marvel hasn't been killed off, she has amazing potential, and she's personally one of my favourite 'Big Badass Backup To Fight Big Strong Villain" in those "No hope left" moments.

I don't understand the hate on her. May e its because she was, along with Natasha Romanff, one of the first female superheroes on-screen in the MCU. Sexism is a big thing in movies and stuff, but I have some reasons why I think she and another person- who I will mention later- should be the next 'Face of the MCU'.

1: the previous 'face' duo was Iron man and Captain America. So it sta ds to reason, along with what marvel has been doing to be more racially and gender inclusive, that we should have 2 female superheroes.

Yes I know the whole 'really overexaggerated feminist film superhero plotline new budget annoying superhero to earn more money and get higher ratings' thing is annoying; but hear me out.

Point 2: I have a few options, but to continue off of point 1; I feel like a good combo would be The Scarlet Witch and Captain Marvel. (Wanda Maximoff and Carol Danvers)

They are both powerful, badass, good storyline, great actors behind them heroes/characters. They could make for a good duo to contrast from the B.E duo of men.

Point 3: yes u know that Wanda is 'dead' BUT before the rocks fell on her, you could clearly see a flash of RED MAGIC in the rocks. After the entire Dr Strange MoM (multiverse of madness) plotline was 'Scarlet Witch has grown in power she's following us into DUFFERENT DIMENSIONS and was prophesied since the DAWN OF TIME, and has unlocked much more of her powers, I HIGHLY doubt some normal old rocks would kill her.

It's just unlikely considering how obscure some of marvels foreshadowing has been, we know that they foreshadow films that come out like 3 years later.

Point 4: moving away from Captain Marvel and Wanda, how about a new duo.

Bucky Barnes and Yelena Belova. Its similar to the old duo of Captain America (man out of time, from 1940, soldier) and Iron Man (normal human, with special training/ gear that is one of the only things that makes them super.)

This duo would be interesting, especially as we've seen both bucky AND yelena on an official marvel movie poster together.

I personally love both characters;and it pays homage to the golden age of marvel B.E.

Bucky is homage to Captain America (obviously) and Yelena is homage to both Iron Man AND Natasha Romanoff.

And it could allow for more opportunity of the old age to come shining back through the new age, in the form of two humans, who have a rivalry,

(I think it would be interesting to have bucky and yelena to have a mild rivalry at least, considering we chose them due to there similarities with the old duo, cap and stark)

Who are also enhanced in ways that gives them an advantage in fighting, and it could give a lot of opportunity to save marvel. And bucky is a fan favourite character, so considering marvels reputation going down now their movies are getting worse COMPARED TO B.E, I think this could be a great way to bring the nostalgia of the old movies back.

So my original rant was about captain marvel being hated. Sorry for making you read all this, and if you have read everything here, I thank you immensely for giving me the time and chance.

I really miss the B.E era, and hate how they kill off all the OG great characters for new, sh*ttier superheros like Kamala Khan.

So here is just some ideas in my passionate rant which I would love to see. I love Wanda and Captain marvel, but personally I think I would prefer the Winter Soldier and White Widow duo because it would need less fancy magic CGI, and give the film(s) they appear in a more B.E and better quality feel then just a bunch of CGI that takes away from the quality of the movie and storyline, and the lack of CGI ( I mean the bright magic flashy stuff they constantly use in A.E, not the general cgi they more often use in B.E)

Would give the film(s) a better, more enostalgic, more authentic, emotional, just overall better film quality and plotline.

#marvel #marvel mcu #MCU discussion #bucky barnes #yelena belova #wanda maximoff #captain marvel #carol danvers #the scarlet witch #the winter soldier #white widow #mcu #marvel films #future of marvel #fanbase #captain america #iron man #black widow #red room #avengers endgame #golden age #the golden age of marvel #ideas #ideas for marvel #long post #very long post #sorry for how long this post is #thank you #thanks for reading #elpis_simps

[valkyrieandstrangeridingaragorn]

Captain Brexit never won any of her battles. That makes her no symbol of feminism.

Red Skull? Killed by the Kraken he tried summoning through the Tesseract.

Red Room? Steve took them out, not Peggy. And Peggy didn't care about the fact that the Black Widows were brainwashed.

And it seems she didn't care about Bucky being the Winter Soldier either. From what I've read, both her and Howard were happy to use him and then they let him go as if he wasn't their problem.

Compare that to Sam in the movies. Bucky tried to kill him at least twice, but Sam still spent time looking for him after DC not only because Steve asked him to, but Sam understood what Bucky had gone through and that he had no agency at all. He gave him a chance, he cared. Saint Maggy and Howard just used him and then tossed him out like trash.

And that coming from a woman who supposedly loves Steve? She loves him so much that she doesn't move a finger to help his best friend? She can't be arsed to help Bucky, she doesn't care about the Black Widows, it's always about her and what affects her at any given moment. Whatever happens around her that affects other people is not of her concern and she never thinks twice about it.

I think that is what doesn't make her a symbol of feminism. You're not a feminist just for being born a woman and holding the most power of everyone in the room. Erskine's words "not a good soldier, but a good man" are referring exactly to that.

Saint Maggy is not Steve, she's Hodge. She's not all that capable in fights either, how could she be? She's so self-centered that she's awful when it comes to team-ups, and she's no leader. Gotta thank the lazy writing for that. What I don't get is why they insist on bringing her back again and again and again if they're not interested in writing her story, if her dialogues are so bland and she has no personality... and she can't even win a damn fight unless she's written as the Queen Victoria of all Mary Sues.

#anti peggy carter #anti what if

[yuleshootureye]

I don't think it's fair to say that people only like WFA if they prefer the fanon, idealized versions of Batfam characters.

More rambling about comics and fandom under the cut, but the tldr version is that a) sometimes people want slice-of-life stuff for their favorite characters and b) if I have to put up with Dark and Gritty, unnaturally-prepared, child-slapping Batman, fans of that guy can put up with some light and fluffy manor hijinks like WFA.

Yes, there is an active and vocal portion of DC fandom that wants things from canon that will never happen. Partially that's because fandoms typically always want things from canon that would never happen. Teen Wolf and SPN fans want a coherent narrative that actually addresses the themes and character choices portrayed on the show. CA:TWS fans want to dig their claws into Steve and Bucky's relationship AND the US Military Industrial Complex in a way that the MCU never will. Stranger Things fans want some honest-to-God character development. And part of what I see in DC fandom is similar: what do fans of works where the characters are constantly emotionally and physically stressed want from their fanworks? Hurt/COMFORT and/or curtain!fic, in my experience.

And yes, partially that's because there seems to be a large portion of DC fandom that have not read a significant portion of the comics.* And/or watched the tv show(s). And/or watched the movie(s). And fanon builds on fanon until suddenly Tim Drake is crying because no one has ever hugged him, Cas/Steph/Duke are Sir Not Appearing in this Film, Jason is Gotham's #1 feminist, Dick is a golden retriever in human form, Damain is baby™, and Bruce would NEVER endanger his children by letting them go out and fight crime. But that happens in every fandom, to some extent.

I think it's perhaps more pronounced in DC because it's a comics fandom without any one unifying canon that most people are drawing from. For good or for ill, the Marvel fandom is typically able to circle the wagons around the MCU, with people incorporating various aspects of the 616 or Fraction's Hawkeye or whatever Spider-Man movie's come out most recently. DC doesn't have that. There's 80+ years of comics, including reboots that are supposed to make things less confusing (but YMMV on the effectiveness of that), and characterizations that change with the times; CW live-action TV shows; the Snyder-verse live-action movies; the NON-Snyder-verse live-action movies; the DCAU or Dini-verse/Timm-verse; the DC animated movies that are generally adaptations of comic storylines; the 2005 Teen Titans animated show; the 2010 Young Justice animated show; TITANS; The Batman (the animated show!); The Batman (R. Battinson!); Gotham; Smallville; Lois and Clark; etc, etc, etc.

I came to comics from the DCAU. I watched Smallville far past the point where any reasonable person would have quit. When I first watched 1978's Superman, I was confused that John Kent was dead, because he wasn't in the canons I was most familiar with. It's obviously not a 1:1 comparison, but I do think the question of "what do you want from canon" depends on what canon you're talking about.

And I don't mean to sound like I'm coming down on the side of people who are only familiar with fanon trying to argue they know the characters better than people who've actually consumed canon. But I do think DC being such a broad canon with no unifying property makes it a difficult discussion to have unless you start off by identifying the parameters.

ANYWAY, the point I've been dancing around is that there's enough canon that when someone says "MY Batman would never do that", they might be talking about their fanon or they might be talking about animated show #903 or the Tim Burton movies or whatever. Also, I had to put up with Nolan!Batman being the Batman du jour for like 10 years. It's WAFF WFA Batman's turn to be in the spotlight for a hot minute.

(Also, as greater minds than mine have pointed out, comics are, in general, a collective mythology of the modern era. And if you've ever tried to look up the One True Version of a myth, you'll know it's a frustrating exercise in futility)

*Of course, there's also a question of "what counts as a significant portion of the comics". Someone semi-recently ran a poll of "would you say you've read a lot of comics" and I was torn because I've read a lot, but in fits and spurts over the last 20 years, based on what was available at my local library or bookstore, and with nowhere near the focused attention that others have managed.

#tbh the thing I find most disconcerting about WFA is that I feel like I've read some of these comics as fics or tumblr posts before #and I don't like that #but anyway #wfa's not my favorite thing dc's ever done #but at least it's not more Court of Owls shit #meta #meta (batman) #meta (dc comics) #fandom #criticism of fandom #i guess #wayne family adventures #dc comics #dcu #dcau #smallville #one of the joys and pains of comics is that everyone has a different entry point #it's just like #how you came to the sherlock holmes fandom generally greatly affects how you interpret the character #waff = warm and fluffy feelings #btdubbs #i have so many things i should be doing instead of this #yuleshootureye.txt