#it was because of the awful situation and role models they had yeah and I like to imagine when they’re older they can restart

[withdenim]

It makes me so sad to think about how Harumi was probably Lloyd’s first non-obligatory friend, and she just destroyed him.

#I love the darkley’s kids but honestly they don’t count #Lloyd was raised at darkley’s and his only friends bullied him and that’s canon #it was because of the awful situation and role models they had yeah and I like to imagine when they’re older they can restart #also Lloyd canonically ran away from darkley’s regularly #the ninja are DEFINITELY obligatory friends #they’re family and they mean so much to him yes #but he didn’t have a choice really #harumi was just some person he met who was nice and seemed to share his values #was kind and empathetic to him and seemed to understand him #and then it was literally all fake and not even just a ruse. it was designed to hurt him #Lloyd Garmadon why is tragedy buried in your bones #lloyd garmadon #ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago Lloyd #green ninja #princess harumi #ninjago harumi

[sasharcyreal]

i get so pissed off when people hate on keefe for “running away all the time” because first of all it was two times. second of all, they say he’s not learning his lesson when the situations are so so different?? when he joined the neverseen he had just found out his mom was the leader and then that she might be dead and THEN that his role model is also part of the neverseen. he was 14, traumatized, and desperate for answers/a way to help. he joined as a DOUBLE AGENT to HELP his friends. it was insanely stupid and hes an idiot, but it doesnt make him an awful person. the second time he ran away was because he had creepy and super dangerous powers and no control over them. he left to protect people because he knew he was dangerous and his mom wasn’t going to stop as long as he was there. it was also stupid, but i dont think people should hate him for it. i just saw somebody say the only way sokeefe could end is sophie being a single mother because keefe would run away…. HUH??? theyre like 15/16 right now, nobody is having a baby any time soon? they might not even have one at all? why are you sitting there like “oh theyre dating now? yeah hes gonna run away when she gets pregnant”…. thats weird. also he has no reason to run away??? he’s never run away simply because he was scared. he ran away to help and protect people. he’s an idiot, not an asshole. it also feels like a lot of the keefe hate is just retaliation to the fitz hate (im not saying all of it is, and there are valid reasons ive seen for people to be mad at keefe and i respect peoples opinions no matter what) and its like…. dont act like fitz is perfect? i love fitz and i even see myself in him a lot, but he’s made as many mistakes as keefe. he blamed sophie for his dad’s mind break, didnt support her in the right way when she was unmatchable, and yelled at her when she couldnt tell him who her mother was. he’s also been there for her for 9 books and been one of her best friends and biggest supporters and SO HAS KEEFE. people act like you have to choose one or the other when EVERY character is flawed and EVERY character has good qualities. i dont know where im going with this and its a lot longer than i planned but its just something i wanted to say

#dont jump me please #if you don’t agree thats fine #kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #keefe sencen #sophie foster

[yandereworlds]

Could we perhaps get a quick ranking of your yanderes from most likely to not want children to borderline “Kids? I’d thought you never ask! What matching family shirts look the best to you love?”

Oh, boy.. Where do I even start with this ask? Dae-Hyun would absolutely be OVER the moon and BACK if his s/o ever suggested having children. Due to his own rough childhood, he would want to give his children the absolute world and would be all over the place with it. Obviously, since he's never had children before, he wouldn't really know where to start, but would still try his best, buying baby clothes, gathering baby supplies etc. he'd probably even go as far as to setting up a nursery in preparation. "How's this, y/n? I think this onesie would look so cute on them.." Dr. Laurence would be somewhat keen on having children with his s/o. Since he's a doctor, he'd know exactly what to do and how to plan every step. He'd be super thorough with everything, wanting to make sure everything is perfect for when they have children. Dr. Laurance is nothing, if not organized. "A child? It didn't cross my mind.." He'd pull out a file, "What should we name them, darling?"

Demetrius would be a complicated situation. I wouldn't say he'd be entirely opposed to having children, but he wouldn't necessarily be on board with it either. Basically, he'd be super conflicted, especially considering the circumstances. He knows that his lifestyle isn't fit for a child and because of that fact, he'd be reluctant. Not only that, but he would feel like turning to a domestic lifestyle would expose weaknesses and that his child would inevitably become a liability. He already focuses a lot of his time on you, but throw a child in the mix? That's going to lead to problems, undoubtedly. Lukas absolutely could not have children with his s/o, not only would Lukas be an awful role model, but he already despises children in general, to the point, if his s/o even suggested having children, he'd more or less be disgusted, possibly even offended by the notion. "A child? Really? Am I not enough?" So yeah, he'd be super dramatic about having children and would constantly complain. If it were a situation where you were already pregnant, Lukas would probably sabotage your pregnancy by any means necessary. I can definitely see him being the type of guy that would purposely try to ditch the baby at the hospital and pretend he had no idea lol

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#yandere #yancore #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere oc #male yandere #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere headcanons #yanderecore #//mun kiki #Dae-hyun #Lukas #Dr.Laurence #Demetrius #yandere art #//mun kiki art

[polichinelle]

yeah fuck it i'm making this its own post. basically very long winded (but still not as extensively detailed as i'd like) thoughts on adam & ronan (sort of) & whelk & noah

i remember reading the raven boys back in 2014 (ten years of rot in my brain!) and being sooo disappointed that there was basically zero fandom interest in whelk & noah beyond "omg whelk is evil and awful and terrible, poor baby noah!" when that is not the narrative surrounding them, not really. i feel it's a disservice to both of their characters to do that, especially noah's:

there is nuance there. there are implications. like... it's ALL about the implications!!! we basically see nothing of whelk and noah beyond what's left after the carnage. and it's a theme in trc for characters to have irreparably changed before we ever meet them (gansey, ronan, whelk, noah). we don't know what they were actually like when noah was alive, when they were best friends. when they were tight as ticks.

what we do know is this: whelk was noah's gansey. whelk was cheating on his own girlfriend with noah's, which is a shitty thing to do for sure, but something we also have zero context for. we also don't know how true it is, because whelk has such a self-inflicted warped view of his past. he keeps rewriting his own memories to think lesser of noah, because his absence hurts that much! we know they were best friends, the same way adam & ronan are best friends with gansey. we know they did everything together

okay, changing gears a little.

i'll paste the part where adam is possessed, sorry for the amount of screenshots:

and this line from a bit further along the chapter:

then, from noah's possession scene:

compare this to whelk's recollection of killing noah, and the effects it had on him:

"red lines streaked in the corners of his vision" "in whelk's head, unearthly voices hissed and whispered, words blurred and stretched together" "dictated by something larger and more powerful than himself" "somehow invited into his body through czerny's death" yes i am going there, yes i am making that point. i think, to some extent, barrington was possessed when he murdered his best friend. neither noah nor adam get their own pov while possessed, so...

i mean, time is a circle. noah needed to die so that gansey would live. noah had already died, gansey had already lived. it needed to happen, and so it would.

where the difference lies, i think, is in barrington's reaction to being possessed, versus adam/noah. for all that i'm arguing possession, i don't think barry's a stand up guy, he's a kid who's never had good role models (need i pull out the quotes about his shit parents) and who was raised by money and objects and reputation, which is why i think the possession worked. the idea to kill noah might've seemed like his own in the moment, an escalation of the situation he was already in, but unlike adam/noah there was no one to hold him back (not to mention barrington isn't as familiar with magic things(?) as they are). in that moment, whelk did truly lost it. he did the unforgivable. but there is no universe in which he doesn't.

for every time we see noah reenacting his death, we also need to imagine barrington whelk, seventeen and shivering. realizing as he's committing the act that he can't go back. perhaps realizing too that he couldn't stop his hands from gripping onto that skateboard, no matter how much he wanted to after that first hit. ("But instead, he remembered the sound Czerny made the first time he hit him.")

there's also adam in this. both him as a parallel to barrington, and as a strange sort of part of noah in a way. adam and noah interact the least out of the main group, arguably, but they too are a two-headed creature; they started out as one singular character and you can sort of tell. something something hands and eyes, something something sacrifice. ronan sort of parallels noah, in that he is not the same lively person we hear about, and he never will be that person again. both are cabeswater personified (although in different ways).

some more things:

"he once had been tight as ticks with his roommate czerny" "only whelk and czerny, treasure hunters and troublemakers" "it was possible that czerny's death wasn't for nothing after all" "[...] his days a ribbon floating aimlessly in water" (in relation to: "he had been a swimmer himself, once") "czerny, you're in a better place than me, i think" "whelk, standing in the wreckage of his life, didn't laugh this time" "the dry, half-eaten burger on the passenger seat / the first fast-food burger he'd had in seven years" "these days, when whelk was trying to comfort himself, he told himself that czerny was a sheep, but sometimes he slipped and remembered him as loyal instead" "[...] took him back to that moment, the skateboard in his hands, the sad question gasped in czerny's dying sounds "we were friends like —"

also, whelk dying in the same place noah did. these lines:

both noah and barrington look the same in the end. broken, rumpled, forgotten. noah's family will never know his bones were reburied outside of their family plot. whelk's mother, however distant she is, will never be notified that her son has died. i think in a way barrington died at the exact same time noah did; something something invited into his body through czerny's death.

basically what i'm getting at is, noah and barry could've been ronan and adam i think, had the circumstances been different. they never will be, but i think about it sometimes.

and there's so many more things i'm not even gonna TRY going into, like noah and whelk both being parallels to gansey (the three of them kings in their own right), or the disparity between whelk talking about czerny vs adele talking about noah, or whatever the fuck is going on with whelk's backstory in general (what's the deal with his mother? how the hell did he get the aglionby job? a random headcanon of mine is that his and noah's search for the ley line lead them to fox way, seven years before the events of the book, and that's partly why whelk refuses to give out his name to maura, because barrington is hard to forget, and easy to trace back)

there is so much to talk about here and i'm so peeved no one is doing it properly... why are we still talking about declan bringing his weekly girlfriend over to monmouth for no reason when we could be talking about whatever the fuck kinda soul-fate-destiny bullshit noah and whelk have!

#i know trc has its villain of the book thing but i am sooo disappointed whelk is never really talked about beyond #the first novel. like he's one of the only tangible links we have to noah's life... he was RIGHT THERE #he's so interesting to me. i rotate him and noah over and over in my head like they're in a microwave #trc #the raven cycle #the raven boys #noah czerny #adam parrish #barrington whelk #ronan lynch

[ask-your-fav-spiderling]

happy 20th birthday to ME. uhmmmm big news

I'M RETIRING!!!!! 🗣️🗣️

as spiderling. for the foreseeable future. potentially forever!!

i've just been thinking, i started being spiderling when i was 13 fresh off the death of harry. that wasn't my fault, i didn't do anything to cause that other than like exist. it took me a really long time to figure that out though. but after that i decided i had to fix what i thought i'd done, i had these abilities that meant i had to use them, right?

so i went out and i helped tons of people and i'll never regret that, but i got myself hurt. a lot.

and then i met the cluster. which is another thing i'll always be thankful for. i absolutely love y'all, don't doubt this because of what i'm about to say. a lot of you were not the best role models for a 13 year old. this is just like a fact i'm NOT upset about it, i can easily recognize that we were all in uniquely weird and/or bad places, but also gang the first time most of us met was ALSO the first time i saw a dead body. but we all met and now you're my family and i know now that if i quit spider stuff entirely you'll still stick by me.

then mysterio happened. and listen there are things that occurred that stay between me, him, gd, and my therapist, beyond what y'all already know. but it fucked me up GOOD, and i still have a lot of problems discerning what around me is real or not.

then a WHOLE lot of other stuff happened and i got angrier and just. bad mentally. i never wanted to fight when i was angry, i still don't, i hate the lack of control and i hate acting like my dad. but i was spiderling i couldn't just not go out. because then the almighty vague "something bad" would happen. and so i'd go out and be reckless and get hurt worse and worse and i'd feel awful about it so OBVIOUSLY to make up for it i had to go out more.

OCD is not a logical disorder.

and things would get better for a bit, then worse, and the "betters" got less great and the "worses" got more extreme and it just get going and going until eventually i hit a point where i realized if i didn't quit i would probably get killed. but by now, patrol was a compulsion. i'd have full anxiety attacks if i didn't have my suit on me at all times. so quitting was much much harder than i thought it'd be.

but i hatched a plan last year, you love me and my plans, and took down my rouges in a way that i believe ensures they can't come back. all of them are big long stories that i WILL be telling but ideally later. and uh yeah. did it!

so i think, it's still hard to retire entirely. because there are good, great things about being spiderling, mostly the community and getting to help people in a way that really matters. so essentially, i'm on call. if there's a situation where you need extra hands and i feel capable of helping, i'll be there. but in 22701? zip, zilch, nada, i am done. i did my time.

i want to be there for fun things too! conventions, events, competitions, all that jazz.

but yeah, that's the spiel. happy 20th to meeeee can't wait until next year to see if i can get drunk

#everyone be nice to me about this decision or i will block you forever and ever /j

[kasienda]

Celebrity Status: Ch 5 - Public Opinion

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

Read on Ao3

Chapter 5: Public Opinion

“If you think about it, everyone else’s bad day ends up being my bad day!”

Marinette slammed her laptop closed before she could hear the commentary that she was needlessly cruel to an innocent girl, or a terrible role model to all of Paris. 

She had already heard it all. 

“A classic case of victim blaming.” 

“I’m so disappointed. I looked up to her. But now she is canceled.” 

“I can’t believe Ladybug could be so dismissive. She was so mean to the akuma victim. I thought she was better than that.”

Even her own maman hadn’t spared a thought for Ladybug. 

“That poor girl,” she had said. “She’s already having an awful day after becoming an akuma.” 

And it wasn’t like her maman was wrong, but Marinette wished she had also noticed that Ladybug must have been having a terrible day as well to snap like that. 

And that terrible day hadn’t ended when the sun went down because she couldn’t escape it. The criticism was everywhere. It was online, on the news, and she hadn’t even been to school yet. Everyone had something to say about it. And admittedly, she had screwed up. She knew that. She knew that the second she had said it. 

That was why she had apologized instantly, but did anyone ever play that part of the clip? 

Noooo! 

“Marinette! It’s time for school!” her maman called up the stairwell. 

Marinette groaned, burying her face in her hands. She didn’t want to go. She didn’t want to hear what her unknowing classmates thought of her actions. 

“C’mon, Marinette,” Tikki urged. “It can’t be worse.” 

“You say that! But it won’t be random internet strangers. It’ll be my friends.” 

It would be her class! It would be her oldest friends from kindergarten. It would be Alya and Adrien. She cared what they thought of her even if they didn’t know it was her.  Maybe especially when they didn’t know it was her because then she knew their opinions were real . 

But Tikki was right. She had to go to school.

“Yeah, it really wasn’t cool,” Alix was saying when Marinette walked in. Hopefully she wasn’t talking about Ladybug. Maybe Kim had done something stupid again. 

“It just seems so unlike her,” Rose said.

And Marinette’s stomach dropped. She was pretty sure they were talking about Ladybug. She trudged to her seat, not saying so much as good morning to Alya, Nino, or Adrien who were all already in their seats. 

“This is why you should never meet your heroes,” Lila said darkly.

“That girl was beneath Ladybug,” Chloé chimed in. “Ladybug was right to put her in her place.”

Marinette let her head thunk onto the table. If Chloé approved, she was definitely totally and completely in the wrong. 

“You okay, girl?” Alya asked. 

“Fine,” Marinette mumbled into her table. “This all just stresses me out.” 

“I know! It’s wild right? Who’d have ever thought that Ladybug was the type of person who could snap like that?”

“Et tu, Brute?” Marinette whispered, very much wanting to cry.

“Have any of you ever heard of the Fundamental Attribution Error?” Adrien asked loudly. It was the closest thing to irritated Marinette had ever heard from him. He had everyone’s attention. 

“Funda what?” Kim echoed. 

“It’s when someone else is a jerk you tend to assume that it’s something in their nature,” Adrien explained, “just the way they are. But when you are a jerk you tend to attribute your behavior to the situation. Like you’re stressed or having a bad day and that brings out a darker side. But you don’t think it means you’re a bad person, just that you’re stressed or having a hard time.”

“What’s your point?” 

“My point is you’re all disappointed in Ladybug. You’re assuming she is this way because of a thing she said in the heat of the moment to one person at one time. When in reality, she’s just a person who was probably having a bad day, a person who has saved every single one of us at least once, if not multiple times, a person who has to drop everything over and over to put herself in danger to fight akumas who are trying to hurt or kill her.” The heat in his voice was unmistakable now. “She didn’t stop being brave or courageous or a role model. She made a mistake.”

Now Marinette was crying. She wiped away her tears quickly, blinking furiously before more could fall.

Adrien hadn’t judged her. Adrien had understood, had defended her to the entire class. 

“You’re being awfully forgiving. Agreste,” Lila said. “Ladybug–”

“Maybe I just know what it’s like to have every action and word you say to be judged in the court of the public eye,” Adrien cut in. “It’s an impossible standard to live up to.”

Marinette’s smile felt manic. She was on cloud nine. It no longer mattered to her what the news was saying or even what her classmates thought. 

Adrien forgave Ladybug, still admired and appreciated her. That was all Ladybug needed.

“Can I put that on the Ladyblog?” Alya asked.

He rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks tinged with pink. “My father will kill me.”

“I don’t have to,” Alya immediately back-pedaled. 

Then Adrien smiled. “No, you know what? Go ahead. It’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission, right?”

He was even willing to put himself in harm’s way for her. 

Marinette sighed happily. God, she loved him so much. 

…

“What is this?!” his father demanded the moment Adrien stepped into the foyer.

Adrien didn’t even need to ask what he was talking about. “An interview I did for the Ladyblog.” 

“I didn’t authorize an interview with the Ladyblog.” 

Adrien hands spasmed at his sides, wanting to fly upwards to reassure himself. He held them stiff, knowing his father hated the nervous tick. 

“No, I know. It’s just everyone in class was saying all these negative things about–”

“The public’s opinion on Ladybug is not my concern,” Gabriel interrupted. “Nor should it be yours. We do not need to be dragged into Ladybug’s PR problems.”

Yeah well, Ladybug’s personal morale and wellbeing was very much Adrien’s concern. Not that he could explain it. 

“Right. I’m sorry, father.” He wasn’t, but he knew arguing would only make everything worse. His own version of damage control. 

“You’re grounded for the next two weeks.” 

Adrien’s head shot up. 

Two weeks?! His interview with Alya hadn’t been anything that reflected poorly on the Gabriel brand. At least, Adrien didn’t think so!

“And if anything like this happens again, you’ll return to homeschooling.”

Adrien blinked at his father. He had known there would be repercussions, but his father’s reaction was far more extreme than expected. 

“That will be all, Adrien.” 

Adrien shook himself loose. “Yes, father.” 

He made his way up to his room. It was going to be a long two weeks. 

…

“What do you mean Adrien’s grounded?” Marinette demanded of her best friend.

“Yeah, I feel super bad. He’s grounded for two weeks because he gave me a few quotes for my last post without asking permission. I asked him if he wanted me to take it down, but he told me that he wanted it to stand to make the punishment worth it.” 

Marinette’s eyes threatened tears. Adrien was truly too good for this world. “We’ll have to make it up to him.” 

And she had the perfect idea. Maybe Adrien couldn’t leave his room, but that didn’t mean a superpowered guest couldn’t pay him a visit. 

She brought a box of macarons for good measure. 

"Ladybug!” Adrien greeted, springing to his feet when she tapped on his window. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked as he offered her a hand to ease the step down into his room. 

“I wanted to replace the cookies you leant me the other day!” she said, holding up the box. “And I uh… may have also heard that you were grounded for defending me on the Ladyblog. And wanted to come cheer you up!” 

His answering smile warmed her from her chest to her toes. “Mission successful then! Would you uh… like to come in?”

“Of course!”

“From what I can tell, it seems like you might be having a rough few days,” he observed.

“Oh my god! Tell me about it. It’s like when things get stressful, I’m not on my game, and then because of that everything gets even more stressful!”

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

And she found herself telling him everything, barring any identity revealing details of course, about the whole week from her parents being upset with her, to missing out on outings with her friends, to the horrible timing of akumas, and to that most recent akuma in particular.

“And now everyone hates Ladybug!” she finished. Somewhere in the last fifteen minutes she had moved from a somewhat normal sitting position on his sofa, to laying flipped upside down with her feet hanging over the back cushion. After the way he spoke about her in class, she just felt so comfortable here, so safe in his presence.

He would never judge her. 

“Not everyone hates Ladybug!” he countered. 

“Everyone except you.” 

She grinned when his face turned pink. It was nice to be able to affect him the way he had always affected her. 

Maybe he even liked Ladybug. 

“It’ll blow over. Trust me. In a week, something else will happen and no one will even notice this little blunder.” 

Ladybug flipped upright. “How do you do it?” 

“Do what?” 

"How do you deal with a scandal, or just being famous in general,” Ladybug said. 

“Well, in my case, there’s an entire team. There’s people who monitor what is being said, others who research the best responses, and then I have coaches that tutor me, not so much in what to say, but in how to say it so it comes across in the best possible light.”

”There are coaches for dealing with being famous?!”

He laughed. "If you have enough money, there's coaches for everything."

She flopped back down in defeat. "I don't have any money."

Then she lit up. "Do you want to be my coach?!"

"Your coach?" he repeated.

"Yeah, where you teach me about how to handle being a public figure."

"I don't know if I'm qualified. I mean, being tutored is way different than tutoring someone else."

"Sure, but I don't have a lot of other options. You can't possibly make things worse for me."

The room was silent for a long time. 

She smiled up at him. “Please?”

“I could never say no to you.”

Her smile stretched wide. “This’ll be amazing! You’ll see!”

Adrien’s thoughtful insight would no doubt solve all her PR problems.  

…

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #ladrien #ladrien with marichat tropes #romance #speed write #only write the fun parts #my own content #celebrity status

[ragesin]

I love looking at the inner workings of the relationship between Mel and Zel, because it means digging into how they view themselves and their clan, layers of trauma, mixed feelings, misunderstandings, and unsaid things that span thousands of years.

Meliodas

He loves Zeldris. He's not good at showing it but it's a lot more than he ever outwardly lets on. Despite this, it's to a point where their father, the Demon King, acknowledges that Meliodas views Zeldris as his "beloved/darling brother" and then proceeds to taunt him for being worried / desperate and not wanting to accidentally kill Zel's body which the King stole for use as a mortal vessel. Meliodas trained Zel how to fight and survive, they settled disagreements often enough with rock paper scissors that Mel accurately predicts whatever Zel picks, gifted him a sword, and he knew about the secret affair with the vampire and chose to let it be despite how frowned upon it must have been. But Mel has full belief that Zel feared him throughout his time in the Demon Realm and while acting as leader of the Ten Commandments. It didn't matter that his younger brother admired him. Mel only really focused on the fact that he was terrified of him, and later admits that though it was his own fault he did nothing to rectify the issue and allowed it to grow worse through his cold, standoffish nature and not having time for him while enacting their father's will.

Right before all hell breaks loose, Mel recognizes the danger of the developing situation and deduces he can no longer stay idle. He thinks to try to get his brother out as well and tried talking his brother into leaving the Demon Realm with him, attempting to convince him by saying to bring along Gelda but Zeldris refused. He could have forced him to come, it would have been doable, but Meliodas chooses to respect his decision so he ending up abandoning him. He threw off his shackles and left with Elizabeth. Though he worried about Zeldris, he did not look back. This forced Zeldris to shoulder more burdens on top of what he already had as a prince and the Executioner. Then the Holy War started due to Meliodas' actions, leading to the vampire revolt and Zeldris being given the order to execute the entire race, inadvertently making Meliodas responsible for what happened. He realizes this millennia later after getting the rest of the story from Gelda. It feels as though nothing he does to help/save Zeldris is working. All of this feeds into Meliodas' self hate and overall negative self perception. He sees himself as a worthless older brother only deserving of Zeldris' hatred after doing nothing but failing him. Even when completely stripped of emotion and aware of Zeldris triggering Elizabeth's curse, he still made a point of apologizing for his shitty actions and asks his brother to forgive his awful older brother.

Internalization of a twisted mentality as the favorite son who's not allowed to fail and feeling like he needed to be this invincible revered figure to succeed in carrying the entire weight of his proud clan as he fights nonstop in a never ending war to right the injustices against them under the unrelenting pressure of his father with his worth tied to how well he can flawlessly forever perform as the perfect weapon to mindlessly cut down the Demon King's enemies aside, Meliodas knew he could have done more for Zeldris but he simply didn't and when his brother needed him most he wasn't there.

Zeldris

He grew up in violence, watching his brother reap the lives of others without an iota of mercy or regret. Yet, Meliodas was still there as an enduring presence so most - if not all - of his positive 'good' memories involved his brother. Meliodas was an asshole yeah, but he had his moments when the other side of his personality would show through, and that's what made Zeldris try. He loved and looked up to Meliodas more than anyone else. The man was his role model and idol and he used to follow the guy around everywhere. Before Zeldris met Gelda, I think Mel was all he had besides obligatory Cusack and their father didn't even want him to have that. Honestly with Zel it seemed that under the outward appearance of being the Demon King's son he was a genuine kind person despite his situation and who he had as family. Someone a lot more open, sincere and honest about himself and wanting love than Meliodas is ( a person who was just fucking disinterested entirely ), and appeared to try very hard to get his brother's attention and approval, likely wanting validation. Going off remarks he really only visibly started changing personality wise and seriously emulating his brother's vicious attitude after he became the Executioner for Gelda's sake. He did fear Meliodas in some ways, but not the ones Meliodas presumed. He confided in the fake Gelda that while he didn't fear Meliodas back then like everyone else did, he see him as very difficult to approach but he craved being able to interact with him. Normal brother things. Just basic interactions like talking about their day or the people they like.

But eventually Zeldris stopped trying. He stopped talking to Meliodas basically altogether and, despite still holding that desire to bond with him, their communication broke down completely. Eventually things plummet downhill. He's aghast at the decision of Meliodas to throw everything away and abandon him and their people for a wretched monster. He gave Meliodas chances but grows to despise his brother for kick starting the devastating Holy War and it's consequences. The sense of brotherhood, a desire for closeness now appeared to him as only ever haven been one sided. A whimsical fantasy of his own concoction. This goddess is worth more to him than his own brother which may have been nothing much in the end considering how easily Meliodas leaves. Zeldris desperately tried holding onto all of his close relationships, until they imploded and he was left with nothing. Before he knows it, Zeldris' support system is non existent. Brother a dishonorable traitor, Gelda sealed away, and as the new leader of the Commandments he's made to accept the Piety aka the tightest leash. If he displays disobedience anywhere near the degree that Meliodas had he's automatically enslaved to the complete will of his father. He curses Meliodas for inflicting this fate upon him, and himself for being too weak to do anything about it.

The demons effectively lose the war and it's a humiliating defeat. 3000 years later, Gelda is gone. He can only assume she died in the time he was sealed away when the rest of the vampires were eradicated by the so called seven deadly sins. When he sees his brother again it is nothing as he remembers. The stern, cold and emotionless but fierce and determined pillar of strength he relied on is nowhere to be found. His real brother also died a long time ago. This grinning shell masquerading as Meliodas boasts that he and the sins will stop them. As if to top it all off, the very cause of his elder brother's current predicament walks around blissfully oblivious to the suffering she has wrought on them all by stealing away Meliodas from them. It's maddening. He regrets nothing when he makes Elizabeth recall the depths of her sins.

It's no wonder when all is said and done, when Meliodas tries to save Zeldris / asks if it's alright that he fights for him, the man can only stare at him in shocked disbelief.

Extra side note

In the past I've been struck by the fact that the dynamic between the Demon King, Meliodas, and Zeldris echo eerily similar to characters like Ozai, Zuko, and Azula. So many things are the same. You got: uncaring bastard of a father complete with a use and abuse relationship and psychological manipulation on the side, mother MIA from their lives, the heir apparent turning traitor, younger sibling trying to off the older one that they hate, and so on.

The only differences are that Mel and Zel's sibling relationship wasn't as twisted (initially), one of siblings was actually killed off, and Demon King can do a lot more damage that doesn't leave such visible scars. I mean, how lucky are demons to have such great regenerative properties amirite? oof. as i was writing this I also remembered the Thanos, Gamora, and Nebula vibes, and yikes you can bet Demon King did that type of shit too.

#⁺✧⠀⠀`⠀headcanon⠀﹕⠀❪ both rage and tenderness. ❫ #abuse mention tw #genocide mention tw #( i may add onto this later bc i skimmed a lot of things and left out some later plot points but god these two )

[naoko-world]

I posted 5,451 times in 2022

That's 5,451 more posts than 2021!

668 posts created (12%)

4,783 posts reblogged (88%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@omgcheez (Like of course)

@encantoisawesome

@immabethehero

@neon-green-eyes (Of course)

@sleeplessdreamer14

I tagged 4,163 of my posts in 2022

Only 24% of my posts had no tags

#encanto - 2,468 posts

#bruno madrigal - 1,628 posts

#encanto fanart - 805 posts

#mirabel madrigal - 534 posts

#fanart - 480 posts

#pepa madrigal - 392 posts

#julieta madrigal - 384 posts

#bruno fanart - 285 posts

#isabela madrigal - 264 posts

#camilo madrigal - 257 posts

(I guess we can see where my interests goes XD

Longest Tag: 115 characters

#they'd argue about me being queer like some people thinking i'm straight and some others thinking i'm totally queer

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

OMG I love it! Yeah they all need therapy but not all of them would agree to go. Don't be shy! Seeing a therapist isn't sooo bad!

Oh and... Fic ideaaaa!!!!

(Which I ended up writing! 3 chapters for now!)

289 notes - Posted May 28, 2022

#4

Analysis: Disney Princesses were never bad role models

Like a lot of people I grew up with Disney movies. Snow White even gave me my love of apples (true story!). My favorite was Beauty and the Beast because I thought "Belle looks like me and we are fond of the same thing." Even so, like an awful lot of people I thought the Disney princesses were weak girls only waiting for Prince Charming to save them without doing anything to help their situation.

I was wrong though: Disney Princesses were never weak or dumb! They're great characters with deep and various personalities! I'm here to argue that point to you in analysing the old ones + Ariel because she's known as the first strong one + Rapunzel because she's an interesting case.

Sorry, it's a really long essay... And thank you to my proofreader for proofreading it this time, you're the best!

Snow White case

First one to be analysed... Snow White... Aka "The one I can't stand". Yet I'll defend her because I don't like her but I can't let people talk badly about her!

To defend her, anyone would have replaced the movie into its context as if it was the only way to defend the character to be a bad one. From what I know of and searched, at that time most women were housewives and Snow White gives them some credits so of course it can be used to defend the movie, I won't deny it! However that would mean she's still a bad role model today and I don't think it helps her case. Intention doesn't matter when one criticizes something so I won't talk about the context and you'll see I don't need it to defend Snow White!

Yes, Snow White is a kind princess that talks to animals. We even see her in the beginning talking to a nestling that fell from its nest to help it like we help a human child. We also see the animals of the forest helping her many times like cleaning the house with her. How thoughtful of them!

Yet no, she's not weak of dumb. During the movie, she even do some sensible things as:

Fleeing when meeting the prince when he approached her at the start of the movie

When the hunter tells her to flee she is trying to understand what is happening and actually understand once he pronounces the queen's name.

Yet she hesitates, clearly wondering if it is true, but ends up fleeing because she knows her step-mother and knows she's capable of trying to kill her.

When she starts acting as a mother to the dwarfs she's kind, smiling, but strict enough to ask them for proof when they tell her they washed their hands. Seeing it not being the case, she pushes them to wash them if they want to eat. Which is what a good mom would do, to teach some manners to their children.

Before that, when arriving at the Dwarfs' house she starts cleaning because she thinks doing that will maybe make them want her to stay. The girl is interested and clever! A bit rude too, you don't clean people's houses without asking permission.

Then when the dwarfs discover her, after guessing (correctly) their names she starts to negotiate so that they would permit her to stay in their home. She even answers every concern of them with actual good arguments, such as The Queen not having any way to know where she is, and suggesting she could cook. Well, she showed how useful she was in cleaning so cooking wouldn't be a problem for her either. I can understand they agree. I tell you, negotiating well is a quality requiring intelligence!

At some point she laughs at Grumpy for being... Well Grumpy! It's his name and when she guessed it she made a big angry voice to joke about it. Good humor is a sign of intelligence!

Snow White is a sensible woman then, who takes smart decisions and thinks before taking them. I'm pretty sure that, if she ever existed in our world, she would fight fake news. Actually the dwarfs are the stupid ones! Yes guys... It's water so, yes, it's wet.

I'll conclude my part on Snow White in talking about her supposed weakness. To do so, I'll talk about an interesting part of the movie: Snow White eating the apple the transformed Queen gives her.

What I didn't remember (since each time I wanted to watch it as an adult I quickly stopped because of how I couldn't stand her) is how Snow White was basically forced to eat that apple. And wouldn't have if the circumstances had ever been different. I mean, if the animals didn't attack The Queen for example, Snow White wouldn't have made her enter the house to help her recover. Actually she refused at first to eat the apple but The Queen argued a lot, insisted, and I honestly know a lot of people at her place who would have been confused enough to be convinced. It's how conspiracy theories as the flat earth one works! Snow White was convinced by the same way that conspiracy theories work: a lot of arguments and not letting your opponent think so they can be convinced in the moment. Some will stay convinced, others won't because they would have thought about it afterwards or simply done some research.

Snow White shows little girls they should learn to adapt, looking for proof when in front of a claim, and not acting without thinking before! I say it's good to teach them.

About personality Snow White is a sensible 14 years old girl that can be kind or strict depending on what is needed. She can act, like when she makes the animals go away from the disguised Queen or when she decides to clean the house so the dwarfs would want her to stay, and she mostly stays positive.

Cinderella Case

For Cinderella I'll try to avoid talking too much about Cinderella III where she's at her best since we can see her use her cleverness and bravery. It's the best of the trilogy and where she's the most active but that movie was made to respond to the critics about her being too passive in the first movie.

See the full post

342 notes - Posted June 8, 2022

#3

I'm bored... So here are some of my favorites take of Bruno from when I watched and made a lot of screenshots!

Because I'm obsessed with him!

See the full post

467 notes - Posted April 22, 2022

#2

My commission by @kinschi is ready! I'm so glad I could have Bruno holding the Pan Flag drawn by her, she's one of my favorites fanartists!

Because in my head Bruno is Pansexual!

I'll see to put it as a profile picture, I hope it'll fit well and we would be able to see well Bruno & the flag!

769 notes - Posted August 8, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

First part of the pages of the Encanto book that got released recently in France

See the full post

1,249 notes - Posted April 8, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #encanto

[runthepockets]

Hanging out with other trans men is really interesting cus you open up to each other about your personal lives and experiences and families and every now and then one of them will fire off "yeah who needs a dad anyway" or "I can't imagine being a guy who actually cares about making his dad proud" and I'm like damn….really? I always find myself wishing I got more time with my dad, that I had more positive male role models and friends growing up. I'd say I naturally have a pretty good head on my shoulders, but thinking "what would dad think if he saw me doing this / being treated this way" has kept me out of a lot of shitty situations and kept me away from a lot of shitty people.

No judgement cus I know these guys are just venting, that a lot of dads are lacking in their duties and fatherhood is a tough subject for most men. I'm also in favor of abolishing the family. But also, my dad is a pretty cool guy and I don't think I'd be the man I am today if he (and my brothers) hadn't shown me the way. I refuse to let "a boy needs his father" become another talking point that the right has co-opted, because it's just plain true. Speaking from experience, boys with absent or overly-critical or passive or "strong but silent" types of fathers always end up in failing relationships and walking out on their kids and emotionally stunted and in gangs and wife beaters and all sorts of other awful shit. My dad was very attentive and nurturing and present and non judgmental but simply lived too far away from my single mother for me to see him more than 1-3 times a year, so I still ended up having to pull a lot of my masculinity from my imagination, my friends, tv, music, and movies, and though I think I turned out alright and am very proud of what I've earned as a man, I don't think I'd wish that on any other boy, trans or not, as it's often a very lacking and lonely experience. As rewarding as it was watching Naruto cry for his friends, or seeing Furious Styles hug his son after his best friend was violently murdered, it just doesn't compare to having a nice, cozy boyhood where I got to wear the right clothes and get taken to baseball games and got to have 1-1 guy time to play wrestle with pops and get called to dinner with the right name and to be properly consoled the first time a girl broke my heart.

Single moms, lesbian couples, etc, with sons exist and their efforts are not to be understated or derrided or scoffed at. But I still think it's important that boys-- both cis and trans-- have at least one consistent and trustworthy adult man in their life; an uncle, a family friend, a teacher, a counsler, a coach, whatever. Just a firm yet tender and educated male figure to help him articulate his masculinity as well as the women in his life will be able to articulate their femininity due to being surrounded by an abundance of generous and self aware mothers and mothers' friends and teachers and daycare workers and nurses, y'kno?

Ensuring boys have good fathers and positive male role models won't solve everything, nor will it shelter them for all poor decision making, but I still think it's a step in the right direction. I still think it's important that boys grow up with adequate enough resources to become good men, cus the alternative sucks for everyone.

[ducknotinarow]

So why is raph so jealous? do you lack confidence?

Because hes stupid u-u

Okay but also it kind of depends on each of my Raphael's on why they can feel jealous.

2003/07 (since i wirite 07 as a contuation of 03 as well)

Raph has only really known his family that's all he ever had. He didn't start to show romantic interest till their world kind of expanded finally. Through it was only ever through attraction he never considering romance in truth. A crush here and there was fine and tended to burn off fast. Then well he ended up getting feelings for Casey he thought it was just one of his crushes but his friendship with Casey made it hard for him tell was it friendship or romantic feelings? He didn't know If casey would even feel the same and the idea of risking his only really friendship outside his family? Casey is so many things for him. Casey has his back, is always on his side when Raph is made Casey is mad same both ways. Raph felt a connection to someone outside his family the first time and it was a human something he though would never accept who he was. Casey doesn't even care hes a turtle he never treats Raph in a way to saw he cares. Yeah he keeps the affection more between them in private that's his own hang up though. He dose feel awful about it cause even around Casey he can be stand offish and he worries if anyone catches Casey's eye or looks at him and is better at the whole intimacy thing? well then what dose Raph have to offer to Casey to stay? Then Raph loses someone very special in his life as well he couldn't be friends with them still after that. So well when eyes go on to Casey? Yeah that unknown label between them dose get made "Get yer fuckin' peepers off my boyfriend bozo! Or I'll take 'em outta skull."

Now see cause of things in works here with 07 he gets his own place uwu, Raph makes a very very very dumb choice here. Because well he is going through a deep seated depression he feels lost and well that's effecting everything even his relationships uwu. Even after his stupid stupid mouth opens and he tells casey something he doesn't mean. He kind of keeps tabs on Casey and easily gets fumed by anyone he see get to close cause, well if he hadn't done that Casey wouldn't be in that situation now.

2012

I feel he may be the worse cause Raph is far more sensitive in 2012 and expressive even if its always in his fits of anger. Raph is like a fire and his emotions burn like a flame. To Raph Casey is amazing he is the most amazing person he has ever met and known. Casey is his best friend someone he can openly talk to because there is no judgement. He has trusted casey with a lot of stuff he hasn't others Casey has seen him open and vulnerable even. If Raph can see how amazing Casey is there is no way no one else won't either. He knows Casey loves him and cares about him but, what future is there for them? at the end of the day Casey is still human and yeah Casey dosen't care hes so open about who he is and if he could be Raph knows he be more open about who and what his boyfriend is. But he can't be. Thing is Casey has options and Raph dosen't. If someone else better came along then Raph would lose his best friend as well because hed wanna be with his new partner after all. It's insincerity he acts like he dosen't have. So yeah he gets heated the second another human gets just a bit to cozy for Raphs likeing to Casey.

Rise

I have touched on his jealous for Yvonne before sooo since Kezzie mentioned movie Casey and we have plans for them to be father and son? Yeah Raphs a bit jealous that Leo got to be the role model and father figure for his son. He's grateful of course and he'll get worked up about this realization. Hugging Leo big time ;3; but hes gonna hold some jealously because of how Casey speaks of his former mentor. Raph didn't get to be that for him, he didn't get to be there for Casey. And it hurts to think about, Casey dosen't even know him but he can talk on about the others. So he may end up over compensating once he knows Casey's his son ;3;

#muse| hamato rapheal #ask box #((exposed uwu))

[dreamteamspace]

They really went there huh

/rp (good lord I rly hyperfixated on this essay huh)

torture tw, abuse tw, manipulation tw, gaslighting tw

So the Dream SMP built a character, once maybe morally gray, who slipped straight into villany with little to no desire to change, and willing to cause a LOT of pain to get his way. Despite this, he doesn’t question what he does enough to stop, justifying his actions with a good intent that doesn’t come close to justifying what he’s done.

C!Dream is unremorseful of what he’s done, he’s quite literally manipulated and gaslit (like actually, not in the way everyone keeps throwing the word around) c!Tommy, almost drove him to take his last life- like, jesus christ. That’s not even to mention blowing up L’Manburg three times, encouraging c!Wilbur, wanting the discs JUST to have power over c!Tommy, etc.

SO, he gets thrown in a box for it so he doesn’t hurt anybody anymore, making his own hubris his downfall (narrative consequence my beloved). This leads us to a good finale - the bad guy, the person who’s caused objectively the most pain and destruction, is now unable to do so anymore, taken down by the person whom he tried to weaken. It is also revealed he was planning on blackmailing and threatening pretty much everyone, but now everyone gets their stuff back.

Good, right?

Especially for the finale, yeah! The message of the finale is good, c!Tommy manages to escape his abuser with nothing more but his clothes on his back and fights his way back to c!Tubbo and his home.

He doesn’t let his trauma (which is still very present!) let him become a terrible person (arguably the way that c!Dream DID let his frustrations make him a terrible person, c!Tommy, despite bearing quite a heavy weight, recognizes when he begins to turn that way and actively works against it).

It shows that while alone, c!Tubbo and c!Tommy were outfought by Dream, but because c!Tommy went the length to ask for help (which he didn’t even really seem to be relying on actually showing up), he wins! It truly is a good message.

C!Tommy escapes his abuser and manipulator, refuses and fights his trauma to not become someone he doesn’t want to be, and defeats his abuser by asking for help and receiving it, even more than he thought he’d get. He refuses to play c!Dream’s “game”, refuses till the very last moment to let c!Tubbo die, to surrender and say goodbye to him.

So, great! Good finale! C!Dream The Villain is boxed like a fish in a prison of, quite literally, his own making. It sent a good message to people. C!Tommy wasn’t expected to forgive him and did, in fact, axe him down twice, causing c!Dream to finally fall from his high horse.

Most media would stop at this point, say the villain is now defeated and never show them again, or have them come back another one or two seasons later, escaped and seemingly unharmed and worse than ever.

Alternatively, there’s a throwaway line, (or, in good media, a genuine, reasonable backstory, complete with remorse and bad role models and complicated situations), that allows the villain to be redeemed.

In GOOD redemption arcs (See: Zuko from avatar tbh), the villain was already never quite as heartless, or stressed their good intent, or felt remorse for what they felt they “had to do”. Then, ideally, the villain takes a looooong time adjusting their habits, regretting their actions and changing until they’re considered redeemed.

Not on the Dream SMP, though.

They don’t stop at c!Dream’s defeat.

He doesn’t dissapear off-screen and is never spoken of again. His life continues on, everyone’s does, just like it would in reality. He doesn’t magically want to become a better person, far from it. So no redemption. But he doesn’t dissapear, either.

They go on to, slowly, stress how awful the conditions in Pandora’s Vault are. c!Bad says c!Dream should be imprisoned, but at least at slightly better conditions. We’re in very VERY morally gray territorry here. Nobody says c!Dream is a good person, of course not, but even c!Bad - who knows Dream was planning on keeping c!Skeppy in a cage to control him with - goes, “yeah, he should stay boxed, but does he really need to like... suffer suffer?”

Still, c!Dream seems to be kindof inconsistent in his behavior. Is he faking his pain? Is he not? His actions don’t fully make sense for either take. He acts differently to each person, but at the same time some things he does don’t make sense if he were just fishing for pity.

Then c!Sam admits to trying (and thinking he succeeded) to “break Dream’s will”, to quite literally starving him for weeks.

Okay, so now we’re a step further. C!Dream is now suffering even more, although already boxed and unable to hurt anyone. Pandora’s Vault is one thing, but now c!Sam just seems to be out for revenge and nothing more. Instead of spending his time with c!Tommy, he spends his time pickaxing(?) c!Dream.

C!Sam isn’t an angel, and we should all know that by now. He does what he thinks is right, but he’s deeper than that, all characters on the DSMP are.

He cares deeply for the Badlands, and would always choose them above anybody else. He’s a capitalist. He built the prison because it would benefit the Badlands resource-wise, despite knowing Dream would probably use it on his enemies, and it was no secret that ALL members of L’Manburg, especially c!Tommy, are his enemies. C!Sam, undoubtedly, knew that. He still built it.

Arguably, he didn’t know about c!Dream’s attachment obsession at the time, but the point still stands.

People have already latched onto the untold story happening between c!Dream and c!Sam, and frankly, we barely know enough about it. Does c!Sam torture him regularly? Do they talk? Does c!Dream try to verbally fight back? CAN he fight back? We don’t know! We’ve gotten proof for both, between c!Sam saying that c!Dream is terrifying even in prison and c!Dream going silent to go on strike. We don’t have enough of an idea how bad or how good it truly is.

So the people who prefer to humanize c!Dream and explore morality imagine c!Sam to downright torture him, people that prefer to see c!Dream as nothing but evil due to his actions imagine prison on the DSMP to not be equivalent to real life prison, and thus nowhere near as torturous as people are making it out to be.

Now all that is thrown out the window as c!Quackity quite literally tortures him.

So now the internet is faced with a question that, judging by some of the impulsive reactions *cough cough* celebrating torture *cough*, it didn’t turn out to be ready for.

Tell me.

How far do we go?

C!Dream hurt a LOT of people. He did a lot of things that caused irreparable damage. Now what? Do we torture him forever? Why? Because he deserves it? How do we determine that without comparing one kind of pain to another?

It’s custom and kindof generally respectful not to compare people’s pain too accurately, because different things vary greatly in severity depending on the person that experiences them.

At what point do we say he’s suffered enough without comparing exile to the prison?

And if we DO compare, does that even make the question easier to answer?

And if he’s never suffered enough ever, killing them would be a mercy...

At what point has a person done enough damage that they “deserve” to die? What if someone only did half of the things c!Dream did. But if c!Dream gets infinite punishment, and half of infinity is still infinity, do they ALSO deserve endless suffering?

Do you think every person that did something you can’t emphasize with deserves to suffer for eternity and die?

I’m not saying we SHOULD emphasize with c!Dream. He did things we cannot justify, that NOTHING can justify. He did things that were, by their nature, unjustified.

I’m also not saying anybody should forgive him. I think it’s a GOOD thing that c!Tommy doesn’t want nor is narratively pushed to forgive c!Dream.

But c!Dream doesn’t need c!Tommy’s forgiveness to be... a person.

There’s a saying that I’m sure you know, that goes “I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.”, because there’s things you wouldn’t want any human being to experience. Not because you like them, not cause you think they’re right, but because they’re human.

And perhaps this is my personal opinion, but I don’t think c!Dream being a bad person justifies dehumanizing him, because then we get into an area where someone needs to meet criteria just to be human.

-

I met someone once, whom, because of outside circumstances I knew I probably wouldn’t meet again. We’d been getting along just fine for people who just met, and were both getting into an interesting discussion about morality. They kept insisting upon something I kept refuting, so they said they needed to get something off their chest.

They proceeded to tell me that they had, years ago, while a teen, manipulated someone in a relationship, pushed boundaries and tried to convince them to do things they didn’t really want to do to get what they wanted.

They cried, while telling me, too terrified to tell anybody they know, terrified nobody would ever speak to them again, insanely regretful of their actions. They didn’t know whether to go back and apologize or just stay as far away as humanly possible, didn’t know which one the right thing to do is.

It had been years, by then, and I talked them through it. I said that what they did was bad, and there’s no going around that. But I also said what I saw, which is someone who would never do something like that ever again. I saw a human being. Someone who regrets a mistake they did and now, after enough time has passed, would do anything to make it undone.

Someone who is too terrified to be close to anybody in fear that they would do it again. I don’t remember if they already went to therapy or not, but it was definitly on the table, or in the near future.

They asked me how I could possibly even keep talking to them after they told me all that. They implied they felt like some kind of monster despite literally chocking back tears, firmly convinced they don’t deserve to be close to anybody in their life ever again.

I never swerved from the fact that what they did was wrong, and harmful. But I also told them they’re human. The universe isn’t keeping score. They want to be a better person now, and they were never going to learn how if they never let themselves be close to anybody.

I told them to seek therapy, and to slowly, carefully, try. Assured them that the fact that they regret it so strongly will at least help them in not falling back into the same pattern, and if they do, they can learn to recognize that.

They thanked me after the conversation, genuinely, especially for the fact that I didn’t sugarcoat what happened, because I know otherwise it would’ve felt like I was lying, like I was just sparing their feelings. I wasn’t. I was thinking about how to make sure they get to live without hurting anybody.

As per the circumstances, we didn’t speak again after that, which we knew basicly from the very start.

-

I still think about that conversation a lot.

Do you think they should’ve been locked up for life after it happened, instead?

Do you think this real human being, that I spoke to, that took years to realize their mistake - and never would have realized it if they hadn’t had the time to, if they’d been killed right afterwards - deserves to suffer forever?

Let me tell you something, from someone who’s been in more than one abusive situation: People that hurt you are human.

That doesn’t mean you have to forgive them. That doesn’t mean you have to like them. That doesn’t mean you have to make an effort to understand them. That doesn’t mean you need to go anywhere near them ever again.

You can hate them. You can be angry at them. You can (and should) go as far away from them as possible, and/or defend yourself.

But that doesn’t mean you have to dehumanize them.

You’re allowed to hate and dislike people that are human, because you’re human, especially if they hurt you. That’s how life is.

And to go back to my original point - c!Quackity torturing c!Dream is not something that should be celebrated.

There’s a difference between necessary measures (locking c!Dream up so he doesn’t hurt anyone), and torturing people for fun.

It’s not right. It’s never going to be right, and do not justify literal torture on human beings, and do not make someone lower-than-human to justify torturing them.

Taking revenge on someone for what they did tenfold is romanticized, I know, but I promise you it’s not actually as cool as it sounds.

#dreamwastaken #quackity #awesamdude #dream smp #dream smp analysis #dreamteamspace speaks #negativity #fandom critical #its finished and Im finally free #c!Dream #c!Quackity crit #c!Quackity critial

[missnight0wl]

So, about Victor…

All right, here’s my two cents.

First of all, I don’t like the guy. Sorry not sorry. I mean, his design is dope, but the rest? Eh… But that being said, I’m pretty sure I figured out what’s Jam City’s plan for him, and it actually has a lot to do with his design – or rather its change. It might make him a bit more likeable as well, in my opinion.

Also, @carewyncromwell​ made a super informative post on how vampires are viewed in the wizarding world, so I recommend checking it out. 

But without further ado, let’s discuss Victor Ketsueki.

So, first things first: what the hell, Jam City? You can’t put two names in the game files – Kitsueki and Ketsueki – and then simply choose the second one, when I already have a tag for the first one. That’s just rude! Seriously, smh…

Poor jokes aside though. Ever since Victor reappeared in datamine, I keep wondering about one thing. Namely, why Jam City decided to change his design? If you don’t know, Victor was actually found in the game files even before Y5 was released. This is a comparison of his old and new models:

Interestingly, his facial features are exactly the same, for example. Mind you, this is the model which was already in the game – it’s not simply the case of the creators exploring various possibilities. To me, it also means that they had to have already the story connected to him. Otherwise, why would they bother with the whole model already?

So, why did they change it? Because you can’t tell me that the guy on the left could have the same personality as Victor we’ve seen in the game so far. I’m not gonna insist that he’d be a shy nerd and whatnot… but I just can’t see him being as self-assured as the right version. But the more I thought about it, the more confident I feel with saying that Jam City didn’t simply scratch Victor’s old version – at least not entirely. Especially when we take into account what Corey said about Victor before his change:

Also, can I just say that it’s a bit annoying how this chapter apparently forgot that Corey themselves is allegedly quite popular, too? I know that they’re probably not as popular as Victor, but still. They suddenly presented it as Corey is some outcast barely anyone cares about…

Back to the main topic, though. If you ask me, Victor before his change sounds kind of like his old model looks. I mean, he was quite literally invisible – by not being present in the game. And to be honest, I can totally accept a headcanon that he was present yet invisible: reading a book somewhere in the corner, maybe playing chess with Talbott. So… where I’m going with this?

I believe that Victor before his change WAS his old model. Perhaps, Jam City even had some story for him in that form, and he was supposed to change later. Perhaps he wasn’t supposed to change at all, and it’s a totally new addition. Either way, I can see two explanations as to why becoming a vampire changed him in the way we’ve seen:

Victor decided that if he’s ever gonna stop being shy and insecure, it’s NOW. He just saw becoming a vampire as an opportunity, or rather a motivation. You know, something like: “New life form, new me”.

Victor thought that he HAS TO become that edgy overconfident boy to avoid rejection from society.

Personally, I like the second option more, and I believe it also makes more sense. Because as it was pointed out in the post I linked at the beginning, being a vampire isn’t exactly something you’d want to brag about, even in the wizarding world.

HOWEVER…

If you look closely at that short scene from Y7Ch16, Victor didn’t become popular because he became a vampire. He became popular because he literally became a cool guy.

Penny was gushing over his amazing time in Paris. Andre was in awe about how damn handsome Victor is. Victor himself talked about adventures, parties, dancing with Veelas the whole night… The only person who mentioned being a vampire was Ismelda, and let’s be real… it’s Ismelda. Of course she’d think being a vampire is cool.

You see, the thing is that confidence can sell a lot. And Victor apparently figured it out. Imagine that his old self was a vampire. It’s possible that as a shy kid he was already bullied, and now, let’s put vampirism on top of that. Imagine those gossips. Why is he so shy, why is he so quiet? What is he hiding? We know he’s a vampire, so what else is he hiding? Did he hurt anyone? Did he kill anyone? Victor anticipated all those speculations by simply distracting everyone with his coolness. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he made up the stories about his summer adventures for that reason.

That being said, I suspect that Victor doesn’t really feel comfortable in this new situation. Not only his life changed drastically by becoming literally a different being, but also he has to pretend to be someone he’s not. And I guess that’s where MC will play a role. You know, helping him adjust to everything.

I mean, there’s definitely gonna be something behind his sudden confidence. It’s also both interesting and a bit weird that Corey said that Victor can be “mean” because from what we’ve seen… he didn’t seem particularly mean. Arrogant, yes, but that’s not exactly the same as mean. Anyway, we know how Jam City loves the story of “being mean as a way to hide own insecurities”. Sometimes they execute it pretty well (see: Ismelda), sometimes very poorly (see: Merula). Hopefully, Victor will belong to the first category.

So yeah, that’s it! Thank you for coming to my TED talk! I honestly doubt that we’ll see Victor’s old model in the game, but I’d love to see more of his old personality.

#long post #hogwarts mystery #hphm #hphm spoilers #victor ketsueki #about characters

[eunoiaflow3r]

julia, dive

spencer reid x reader

aaron hotchner x reader

this is part 4

complicated (series)

a/n: okay, so this might sound confusing but i swear it’s not. the beginning half JULIA is spencer’s pov before he explains.

the ending half DIVE is hotch’s pov before Y/N ends up choosing.

i didn’t want to split it up into 2 parts because i felt like THAT is confusing. you should read both halves but this is kind of the transition into the double ending thing. also ignore that it says “julia” that’s the name of the song by lauv. dive by ed sheeran.

word count altogether: 2k

warnings: language? also not proofread.

—————————————&————————————-

JULIA

word count: 1k

my hesitation and holding my breath i led you to the garden of my loneliness wish that you left before it all burned down

i’m sorry what I do to you i push and pull and mess with your head then get in your bed cause I’m weak deep down. i wish i never lied to you i never meant to hurt you like that and if i could go back i’d leave you alone

“I can’t always be there for you JJ. I just can’t.”

“Why not? Because of Y/N? I thought you broke up with her.”

“Yeah and I fucking shouldn’t have.”

Spencer was angry. He was at JJ’s house while she complained about him and what he wasn’t doing for her. Her kid was at his dads house and that gave her all the more time to yell at him for no reason. He was tired. Life a few months ago was so tiring and here he was, depressed, lonely, and....mad.

“You shouldn’t have?” JJ questioned - clearly appalled.

“Yes, I shouldn’t have. It was a fucking mistake. This whole thing was a fucking mistake.” he said trying not to scream at her like she was him.

“A mistake? I’m a mistake?”

“I’m leaving.” He needed to go. He needed to clear his head. He needed to get you out of it. He wasn’t sure if he ever could.

“You’re leaving? What about Friday?”

“You’ll go by yourself.”

And then he left. He had such a headache too. If he knew it’d all just end up in one huge fight he wouldn’t have come to her house at all. Her problems are not his problems and he didn’t need to be berated about it. He had bigger things to worry about.

He needed to sort out his priorities. He needed to see you.

He’s been so sad these past few months and he didn’t know why until about a week ago. He stopped doing things for him. He stopped caring about you.

He started putting JJ’s needs and wants above his own when he shouldn’t have. If these past few months have proved anything to him it’s that he’s fucked up. Bad. And he needs to fix it. He has to fix everything. He has to see you.

After showering and getting ready he headed over to your apartment. He knocked to your door for a good 3 minutes before one of your neighbors started shouting at him “She’s gone! She moved out!”

Oh no. “Wait, what?” his voice cracked. “Where to?”

Your ex neighbor rolled her eyes. “Why would I know?”

Spencer left. What was he going to do? Did you leave the city? The state? No. You couldn’t have. You promised to meet him on Sunday. Granted you promised half asleep, but you still said you’d be there. So everything was fine. He was fine. He just needed a coffee.

On the way there he thought about all the things he would say to you in just a couple days time. How would that conversation even go? Would he have to get on his knees and beg you to take him back? Hopefully you weren’t still kill - worthy angry at him. Hopefully all would be fine.

After he ordered, he turned around at the sound of the bell on the door jangle.

It was Jack with his friend and his friend’s mother Ana. Where was Hotch?

After getting his coffee he made his way over to the three. “Hey Jack!”

“Oh hey Spencer!” Jack said as he hugged Reid. Spencer nodded to Ana and then waved at her son.

“Where’s your dad little man?” He hadn’t seen Jack for a while actually. It seems like he’s gotten so big in just a few months.

“He’s with Y/N.”

Spencer nearly dropped his coffee.

“He’s what?” he asked.

“They went to go see a movie. Dad said it was a scary movie so I couldn’t go.”

A movie. Hotch and Y/N went to go see a movie. Alone. Not with other friends. Just the two of them. On a date. Was it a date? Was Y/N on a date with his boss? His boss of all people.

And yeah, he knows you’ve known Hotch longer but still.

Still.

All was not fine.

When Spencer got home he nearly started crying. His heart hurt so much and it hurt even more when he realized this was all his fault. Everything was his fault. He was losing you if he hasn’t already.

Have you fallen for Hotch? Were you two dating?

Spencer couldn’t fall asleep that night. He tossed and turned in his overly large bed and layed down hungry. He didn’t have the heart or the will to make himself dinner. He just wanted to fall asleep and forget everything that’s happened. He wanted to forget everything that he’s done. All the trouble he’s caused. He wishes he could just create his own separate reality where everything is fine and then escape to it. Where he was living now was not where he wanted to be. He wanted to be with you.

There was such much he realized he fucked up. Decisions and choices he realized that he regretted making. How was he going to fix this? He needed to fix this. He had to change things.

When he drifted off to sleep he couldn’t help but grab his pillow and wish that he was holding you. He knew something was wrong after he broke things off with you. He thought he was doing things right. He thought he was doing you right. But now he looks back at what happened and he realizes that he’s done everything wrong. Not since the phone call, no, but since the day he first met you. His first mistake was made when he ever suggested to keep you guys quiet.

And he’s beating himself up over it. All of this could have been avoided if he would have just been honest. If he had just talked to you and told you how he was feeling, and why he was making the decisions he was making, maybe none of this would ever have happened.

But the truth is he wasn’t completely sure why he was making the decisions he was. He didn’t really know why he made the decisions that he made. But you needed an explanation.

And he had 2 days to give you one.

DIVE

word count: 1k

i could fall or i could fly, here in your aerolplane i could live, i could die, hanging on the words you say and i’ve been known to give my all and jumping in harder than 10,000 rocks on the lake

so don’t call me baby, unless you mean it don’t tell me you need me, if you don’t believe it so let me know the truth, before i dive right into you

Aaron Hotchner sat alone on his couch with a glass of water lazily placed in his hand. The TV was on but he wasn’t really paying attention to it. In fact, he had no idea what was even going on.

Every time he tried to think of something else, or someone else, his mind would always end up coming back to you. Always.

He couldn’t decide if he liked that or not. He’s never really felt so consumed by someone else before. He’s never been in such awe. It’s like he’s in a trance.

But truth is, he’s scared. He’s afraid to get too attached. Not only is his feelings on the line, but so is Jack’s. He could handle rejection (maybe) but Jack? Jack loves you. You’re the closest thing to a female role model that Jack has and if you decide to leave? What will he do? How will he help Jack? Aaron knows you have this thing with Reid you have to sort out. He knows you’ve been avoiding him and he knows you plan to meet with him soon to discuss things.

He’s afraid that once you get there you’re going to realize that Spencer is the one for you. He’s afraid of what will happen if he has to let you go. He’s not going to beg you to stay, but he’s scared of losing you. He won’t say it, he won’t admit it, he’ll, he doesn’t even want to think about it, but he may be in love.

And there’s nothing he can do about it but sit here and convince himself not to drink.

There’s all these decisions to be made and he can’t make them. It’s all up to you. And while you make those decisions his heart is in your hands.

And that’s why he’s afraid.

“Yeah?” He picked up his phone as soon as it rang.

“New case. They need us.” It was JJ. It must’ve been important.

“I’ll be there soon.”

This is just what he needs. Work to distract him. Work is good at doing that. His only real concern was seeing Spencer. It wasn’t that noticeable, but there was definitely a small rift between them. They haven’t really talked about it, the situation, and they probably wouldn’t. Even when you’d choose.

“Why do you look like that?” Rossi asked Hotch.

“Like what?”

“Like a statue.”

Hotch didn’t reply. Everything was getting to his head. You two actually hadn’t talked in a few days too, and that was worrisome. It was only because you were getting situated in your new place, and he was trying to give you space but still he missed you.

Emily noticed something was wrong with Hotch too and that got Spencer’s attention.

“Girl problems?” Emily asked.

“You make it sound like highschool.” Hotch laughed.

They were all on the jet back home. Hotch and Emily sat together, Morgan and JJ, and Spencer sat alone.

“Everything is so mixed right now. I don’t really know what to do.” Hotch said, sort of confiding in Emily.

“Do you love her?”

Spencer was definitely listening in now. Hotch was silent for a minute. “I’m pretty sure I do.”

When they got home, Hotch put Jack to bed and went straight to bed. He was exhausted. He couldn’t stop wondering how all this would pan out. He never thought he’d be in this position. He wasn’t really in control...of anything. He hated that feeling. He was always in control. He always knows what’s going to happen. He doesn’t this time.

The next day he decides to go and see you. He missed you, and he really wanted to talk to you. After dropping Jack off he headed to your place. When you opened the door after he knocked three times he could tell you looked really frustrated. He looked down at your hands and noticed you trying to untangle your headphones.

“You need help?”

“Please.” you handed the headphones off to him, kissed him on the cheek, and went back to your kitchen to put the rest of your dishes away.

When he stepped into the apartment fully he noticed you added more decorations. It really made it homey and it was totally - you. He loved it. It only took him about a minute to untangle your headphones and when you noticed you were upset. Okay, not really but it took you an hour!

“Thank you.”

He smiled in response and pulled you in for a hug. Your arms wrapped around his neck and his around your waist. His head went to your neck and he kissed you lightly there. You ran your fingers through his hair and you guys just stayed like that for a moment. Even though neither of you were saying anything, you were saying everything. Between your breaths you were communicating. With every squeeze around your waist, tug on his hair, and light kisses, you were saying what you needed to say.

Aaron didn’t leave that day until around eight. You guys went to see a movie, it actually wasn’t bad in his opinion, ordered some takeout, and drove around for awhile just looking out at everything and enjoying each other’s presence. You didn’t really need much to be happy.

When Hotch went home that day he realized that whatever choice you made he’d be okay with. Even if it doesn’t work out, and he can’t be romantic with you, and it would be strictly platonic, he realized it’d be okay. He would be upset, sure, but he’d understand. With everything that has happened these past few weeks, he’s come to realize that you’re his best friend. You’ve always been there for him and if things don’t work out, he knows you’re still going to be there.

He cherishes your friendship. If he’s not the one for you, he still wants to be able to hang out with you like you’ve always done. Nothing really has to change. Everything would be okay.

—————————————-&————————————

idk why this took me so long but yeah - idk if i’m liking this. originally there wasn’t supposed to be a happy ending with spencer but i’m really trying for there to be one. i know you guys want one lol.

btw i love JJ. it seems like i don’t but i do. i don’t ship jeid though loll.

feedback always appreciated. thank you guys.

tag list: @hotchsbabygirl @thefemalestorywriter @sizzlingclamturtlesludge @mathchampagne @studywithrosie01 @reniescarlett @drreidsconverse @eveliiinnn27 @bweakmybonez @matthew-gray-g @pinkdiamond1016

other tag list: @minami97 @mgg-th1996 @peculiarinsomniac @abschaffer2 @yeah-just-ignore-me-thanks @upside-down-forever @realalpacorn @geekgirleve @psych0crybaby @tomsreid @genevievedarcygranger @spenciegoob @187-reid @tayraiello @jhiddles03 @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @gredvb @mac99martin @oreogutz @thebadassbitchqueen @i-spy-1812 @spenciegoob @silverchains9182 @limoncelloblr @itsametaphorbriansblog @anise-d-castle6 @spencerreider @drreidsconverse @100layersofdaddyissues @thedaughterofhotchniss @avidreider @dreatine @princesssmooshie @night-girls-world @b-buckys @forever-a-cynical @holl2712 @xxconfettiitsaparade @luckyducky4

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid imagines #criminal minds self insert #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner imagines #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch #aaron hotchner #not ur friend spencer reid #hard 2 face reality spencer reid #i hate u i love u spencer reid #julia dive spencer reid

[youwontlikethisblog]

Brutas! La Policia!

I've read a few analysis on this episode before so while watching it again I was mindful to pay attention to certain details, for example; Armando's facial movements and the way he spoke while also paying attention to Marcela's behavior throughout the episodes that take place for that night (I think there's two or three.)

Now to start this off Armando is already at the drag party. He calls Marcela up and explains he'll be at the apartment. Now Marcela's reaction reminded me a lot of how abusers behave in public. They smile, they laugh, they're kind, loving, understanding, and most of all the perfect S.O so when you complain about it absolutely no one believes you because "they're so perfect" she often giggles when conversing with him, instead of yelling like she normally would she lets things slide.

Now up to this point of the series we've seen a pretty...dysfunctional relationship but they have their ups more than their downs. We know Armando is a cheating whore and that Marcela is aware of this but lets it slide even though she yells at him all the time. However Marcela is often seen more loving towards Armando, the only time they truly have heated arguments that aren't related to Armando cheating, they're related towards Betty and her role in the company and his life. See up to this point(Before Marcela came back from New York) we as viewers have seen Armando be annoyed at his fiancé but she was still his number one girl, meaning that yeah he could have his side pieces but at the end of the day (As he said himself) she was the woman he wanted to be with, was it for the sake of his parents or just for the company, whatever it may be he wanted to be with her. By little things like asking Betty to stay in meetings, to asking her to sit beside him during meetings Marcela's behavior begins to change. I noticed that when she came back from NY and entered his office, he went and stood next to Betty and looked at her and then Marcela, smiled and commented on her new look (Something that I find interesting and I'll comment on that when I get to that ep) he then went and kissed her, now I know it could have been interpreted that he was feeling guilty over the conversation he was having with Mario and Betty (the company getting seized by Terra Moda) which could be true but I find it interesting that in that moment they didn't show him staring at Mario and then Betty or vise versa but instead he stood next to Betty and glanced at her for a moment.

Why do I bring this up when it happened days before the Drag Party? Because it speaks on the shift that they begin to have in their relationship. Often we see Armando as the main instigator and I won't sit here and justify that man's actions. He was a serial cheater, a whore if you will, and had no regards for anyone's feelings, even his own, though his egoism made him think so highly of himself, showed that he was truly an insecure person(I could write down a post dedicated entirety of this character personality because the writing, the directing, and the acting added so much dimension to a character I'd otherwise find repulsive with no grain of redemption.) However; when you look at this dysfunctional and complex romantic relationship between Marcela and Armando you begin to see why the relationship is so terrible and it isn't soley based on his cheating.

Again, Marcela is playing this act of being an understanding and easy going girlfriend in front of Patricia Fernandez, the model, she lets Armando's erratic behavior slide and even behaves when he hangs up on her, instead of calling him multiple times and yelling at him. When her bestie Patty tries to instigate her, her sister Beatriz tries to calm her by saying 'Maybe something did happen and we're not leaving this apartment 'til he shows up' but this entire time we see a compose and calm Marcela, something we all know is not like her. Now, she had spoken to Armando before that scene, where she told him she could go get him and for a brief moment Armando agrees, seeming a bit reluctant at first but he agrees to receive her help, then Daniel and Beatriz show up and he finds out and decided he no longer wants her help.

Who does he call?

Betty.

Betty agrees to go get him on his terms, whereas Marcela said she was taking her siblings with her, or otherwise they'd stay in his apartment(he didn't want them there in the first place). Even when they find him and Betty freaks out, she doesn't judge him. Instead she tells him that she understands not to ask questions and that his secret was safe with her, even though she doesn't get what's going on. Had Marcela reacted the same way?

I want to mention this now, before when Armando had to go to the gay bar to apologize to Hugo he said he felt like he had lost a part of himself, he felt vulnerable (Something we know that dude doesn't ever do) and Marcela's go to, instead of listening to him or truly paying attention to him was simply saying she was going to remind him that he was a man and bam seggsy time.

Now back to this episode, Betty goes to pick him up, he explains what happened, Betty asked one question and once he answered her back the conversation regarding that is let go of. They then go to Eco Moda, cops show up, Betty laughs once the cops leave and Armando, after his hellish night, finally laughs at the situation. In a night he himself calls hell, Betty helps bring some sort of comfort and brightness to it.

Later at her house Armando hears Don Hermes express himself regarding the way he treats Betty(Now lets scratch the tape here and rewind just a few scenes before; Armando seemed annoyed at being in Betty's home, once she left the room we see him roll his eyes once he sees where he is, which shows just how stuck up that foo' is and he could catch these hands.) and cut to the scene of Armando leaving her house in Don Hermes's clothes and he asks her if he was truly awful. Now the interesting part of this is that first he asked if he mistreats her, to which she answers back no, he looks truly sadden and disturbed with the idea when asking that that he could be mistreating her. He then mentions that her dad has a bad impression of the company, then he proceeds to say that he had a bad impression of him, indicating that he cares about his image and the way her dad thinks of him. Betty tells him that he doesn't need to worry and that her dad won't beat him up, to ignore him and he then asks her "Is it really that awful to work for us? Is it a nightmare to work for me?" once more showing us, unlike before, that he isn't soley preoccupied with the company, but he actually cares about what Betty thinks of him and the way he treats her as he later says that he'll work on yelling less at her. This entire time Betty is a trooper, as always, she listens to him, tries to reassure him, doesn't judge, and helps him deal with what ever it is he's dealing with.

This leads to Armando showing up to the apartment, Marcela goes to greet him and then takes notice to what he's wearing and instantly a judge-y look falls upon her face.

You can tell by his body language that he feels embarrassed, warned out and frustrated but Marcela goes to the room instead of paying attention to his body language and his reaction she goes to question him. To add to this she is instantly irritated at him and in the room goes to tell him "Do you have any idea how much embarrassment you've made me go through? in front of everyone?" tell me that doesn't sound abusive, I'll wait.

She then goes to name everyone in the apartment and that he knew exactly who was there, how could he be so selfish as to go to his own apartment, dressed in clothes he borrowed from his assistant's dad because he had to go settle a bet he made so Hugo wouldn't quite the company, therefore hurt the company they all love? How dare he do that to her? Marcela goes to tell him "You better think of something good to tell me!" and his facial expression the entire time is dead. He looks done but when he speaks to her, as he has his back to her, his voice sounds kind, though his facial expression looks dead. He replied "Nothing my love... I dressed up in drag" she doesn't believe him and he tells her the whole truth. He even admits that his biggest mistake that night was not being honest with her from the get go and she goes to sniff him, then shoves him away from her.

This is where Marcela shows her true colors. In the eyes of the public she is the poor girlfriend who forgives her cheating boyfriend who is always yelling but behind close doors with just Armando she is emotionally abusive to him.

People often justify her behavior because Armando is a cheater, there fore hey no harm no foul. However no matter what his actions are she is emotionally abusive towards him. In this instance the problem wasn't him cheating or running off. He was truthful to her about his whereabouts and took responsibility for his mistakes but Marcela's behavior is still wrong. She makes his embarrassment about her, daring to insinuate that he's selfish in that instant for causing her to look bad in front of her guest. Not once thinking about how he could have felt, she's supposed to be the one that is in love in the relationship. She's supposed to be the one that picks up on the cues and cares about him because he's supposed to be the jerk who is selfish at all times and disregards her and thinks of her as just an object to screw at night, right?

Remember how I mentioned the night Armando went to the gay bar?

In this breakdown of this scene I want you to remember that incident.

Marcela, in a loving voice asks him "I don't understand why you couldn't tell me something so dumb?" she is using emotional manipulation here because in the bedroom her tone hadn't been that. It had been angry. What she truly wants is for Armando to confess some wrong doing, something to give her an excuse to act out. However Armando is honest with her once more and tells her that to him that wasn't dumb but had been an entreat(in Spanish the word used "Suplicio" interprets that it had been a deep inner begging for it to end, osea, it had been suffering.) Marcela seems truly concentrated and caring to what he is saying. She does after all care for him. He is being communicative and opening his feelings up to her, something he didn't do with Betty and this is where once again Marcela makes it about herself.

I'm not saying she didn't have a right to but if your S.O is opening up their feelings about something that just happened to them and how deeply it affected them, going as far as to say "you have to understand me" and then you say "and you had to go to someone else?" this turns to focus away from the person who is being vulnerable and turns it towards you, what would you call that? Trying to find fault in someone's feelings and invalidating them by dismissing them and making their reaction a personal attack against you and your relationship is abusive one way or another. She wasn't looking to comfort him, she wasn't looking to show she was truly the one he could count on. She was trying to justify her actions, trying to justify that she has a right to behave and react the way she does because he lied and didn't call her so she could aid him. His body language then proceeds to shift from being the one that was being vulnerable to then having to defend himself.

She warns really, though it reads as she is asking him, to not involve Betty in his personal life. That Betty is only supposed to be part of the company's time. He sits standoff-ish, a nervous tick of him that I've noticed is that he often bites his thumb nail when feeling nervous(duh) he then stands up and stares at her for a brief second before letting out a sigh and hugging her and agreeing.

Have you ever had a conversation with someone that just makes you feel so emotionally frustrated that instead of talking it out you just sigh and agree with them? You set aside your own experience and emotions because you're just tired of having to defend your feelings? So you bend their way in hopes it ends the discussion?

Yeah Armando feels that deeply.

This isn't the last of these scenes. Often their dynamic of a dysfunctional relationship, toxic relationship if you will, is seen more focused when Armando is yelling at her or cheating on her. The subtle ways Marcela is abusive is often seen as a "Poor Morch she is just trying to be in his life" you don't try and be in someone's life by making it all about you, invalidating their experiences, not taking no when they say they're not in the mood(often even before Betty and him got involved when he'd say no to her she'd kiss him and wouldn't stop until he finally gave in.) and then threatening that you'll destroy them if they leave you.

Once again the acting, the directing, and the writing itself tell us a very hard telling truth. In relationships, often when they are toxic on both ends, it isn't always one person who is the instigator. Often they shift. One moment someone is being reactive to the abuse, the next the other is being abusive. However this sets the domino effect we later see with Armando and Marcela always at each other's throats, especially the day of the new collection launch, when Armando finds out about Betty's platonic love.

You can compare both of these relationships and their S.O. While in one the S.O is always making it all about themselves, the other is allowing the other to be the main focus(Betty deserved better than the beginning steps of her romance with Armando(once again I can go off on this character and their behavior in great detail lol)). Armando was never the main focus or really any focus of his relationship with Marcela. It was always about her and his parents. While with Betty, even in this episode, we see them both dealing with it. In the company and now for the first time in a setting outside of the company, Armando isn't facing something on his own or going through the motions of something for the sake of everyone but he is very much present.

I really don't know if any of this makes any sense. I think it plays out the dynamic of the relationship and what's to come of it very well. It also highlights Marcela's toxic behavior and abuse as well and why Armando seemed so unhappy by the point that he accepted to romance Betty.

To add to this; This is all just days or weeks apart from the day the plan to make Betty fall in love with him to secure the company is created. The change between Marcela and Armando has been slow but it comes to an exploding halt by then.

Marcela's behavior is abusive. You cannot look at it any other way but that. She is possessive, jealous, emotionally manipulative, sexually manipulative, and over all views Armando as an object that belongs to her. When he bends her way her love is unconditional and she's happy. The correct term is that she is in the honeymoon stages. If your S.O is so afraid of making any mistake due to your reaction; IT'S ABUSE. You're an abusive person. She isn't physically abusive or sexually abusive towards him but she is verbally and emotionally abusive towards him.

We often see him have a tone that is kind and loving while his entire body and facial expression shows the contrary. It shows a man afraid to speak his mind.

Yes he yells at her, he cheats on her, and he isn't the greatest boyfriend. He tells her that he'll do her the favor of marrying her, that he'll end their relationship if she tells his parents the true state of the company. He manipulates her, he is a gran manipulator. He isn't the best but what makes him different from Marcela? That he takes accountability for it. He feels an immense guilt for lying to her and cheating, not only sexually on her with Betty, but emotionally and mentally. He carries that load while Marcela not once has ever show guilt, remorse, or accountability for her abuse.

While one shows to have some form of redemption the other still believes and tries to justify their behavior. Often she is looking for things to be upset about regarding Armando. As if she just needs one small reason to throw every mistake in his face, to yell, to manipulate, and to be over-all a possessive, controlling, abusive girlfriend.

Now this doesn't mean Armando is innocent. There is a reason why their relationship is toxic because they're both abusive towards each other but I noticed that often times, when the subject isn't infidelities', Armando's abusive tendencies come from a reaction rather than the instigator. He is an instigator at times(he cheats for god's sake) but Armando's abuse is manipulation and gas lighting, which are bad too. Those are the moments he is the instigator, when he is being manipulative, gaslighting, or cheating, the rest are reactionary abusive tendencies towards Marcela, who feeds the cycle of toxicity because due to Armando's cheating and gaslighting she's a possessive control freak and the cycle feeds itself. They are both bad people, they are both at fault of the dysfunction in their relationship and they are both abusive towards each other. I think it's important to note why it is that Armando even began to have feelings for Betty as he himself said that their relationship was harmonic whereas what he had with Marcela was anything but that.

Now I'm not saying Armando is the victime here. He is both the victimizer and the victime as well as Marcela.

Once I collect my thoughts to better express and breakdown scenes where Armando is the instigator in the abuse in his relationship with Marcela I'll make a post for it and I'll definitely make one about his abuse in his relationship with Betty.

But let me just say this, I don't hate Marcela. I actually like her, outside of her relationship with Armando and how vile and abusive she has been towards Betty from the get go, she shows to care about her employee's her siblings, and is companionate towards others but I've seen one too many people always act like she was only a victim and never did any wrong. Her character is meant to be realistic which means she is no saint and neither are any of the characters in this novela.

'Til next time.

#marcela valencia #armando mendoza #don armando #armando ysblf #yo soy betty la fea

[captainsimagines]

To Topple A Giant || Chapter Eight

Summary: You had made it your mission to destroy even the smallest evils. When the opportunity arises to finally take down your own family after years of gaining their trust, you reach for it. And so does Steve, the man who represents a symbol of everything you hate.

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader || Avengers x Reader

Part 8 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

Warnings: This story contains mature themes and discussions such as extreme canon violence, strong language, emotional angst, mentions of Endgame deaths and recoveries, sexual situations, and emotional/physical abuse. This is purely fanfiction.

Warnings in this Chapter: abusive parental relationship; extreme canon violence (gun violence, hand-to-hand, baton use, knives); strong language; mentions of drug smuggling, drugs, and human smuggling; mentions of blood and blood loss; major/minor character death (not the mains, don’t worry!); angst; gunshot wounds; heavy alcohol consumption

Word Count: 14,600+

A/N: Listen... you know damn well I had to put some American Pie lyrics in this. The reader’s and Jackeline’s relationship is not modeled after Nat and Yelena lol it was literally the biggest coincidence. 

~

MedBay - The New Compound, 2024, 1:52 pm     

     “He did what?”     

Bruce smiles sheepishly as he lugs Steve’s practically lifeless body onto one of those beige medical beds. Dr. Cho is pacing calmly around the room, getting her instruments cleaned and ready. She tries to ignore the way you’re crowding her, inspecting everything she touches and in turn is going to end up touching Steve.      

“He took a bullet for someone.”     

“And where is that someone?” you bite. You immediately want to apologize to Bruce for your tone but you’re distracted by the tiny groans of pain coming from the pale super soldier beside you. You have to look away to avoid whimpering yourself, but you can’t exactly make yourself deaf. “Don’t tell me he took a bullet for you.”     

Bruce rolls his eyes and steps to the side as Dr. Cho begins cutting away Steve’s pants. “Everyone else is on vacation. He has no one here to take a bullet for besides. It was a shitty liquor store robbery and Steve was, of course, being a hero.”      

“Where’s he hit?” you ask, heading over to grab a pair of gloves yourself. No one questions it.      

“Femoral artery. Seems like he was plugging his own wound until he could get help.”     

Dr. Cho is right. There’s a massive gash in his thigh that’s leaking excessively and the skin surrounding the wound is raised like Steve’s own fingers had plunged so deeply it left an imprint. Not only that, but his hand is covered in his blood. So is Bruce’s, you realize, because he had tried to plug the artery as well.      

“How is he not dead yet?” Dr. Cho more mutters to herself than to you guys. Steve’s head is lolling to the side and his lips are an awful shade of white. His eyes are fluttering open and closed… open… closed… and he’s still mumbling random phrases. There’s a rough tug at the bottom of your stomach that pulls and pulls and there’s a weird urge to crawl onto the table to keep Steve warm.      

“He needs blood,” you say, even though all parties in the room know that as fact.     

Bruce, however, winces. “Sam’s not even in the state right now and I don’t think we have enough time to fly him-”    

“Is he Sam’s blood type? What’s his blood type? Why can’t Bucky do it? Bucky’s in Brooklyn, he can be here in five minutes if he runs.”    

Bruce starts rummaging through the upper level shelves and freezer cabinets. “Can’t mix the serums. We’ve tried.” He finally finds the blood bags, pulling them all out and spreading them across the clean tables. “It’s - shit - do we not have?”     

Dr. Cho is now covered in blood, working as fast as she can to close the wound. “What’s his blood type?”    

Bruce repeats it out loud and watches as Dr. Cho’s face falls. “I ran out yesterday. The blood drive isn’t until this weekend. I had a patient come in yesterday, I - I ran out yesterday.”     

They seem to be having their own conversation with their eyes and are too focused on each other to see you already stripping your long-sleeve shirt and wrapping that horrible blue rubber band around your upper arm. “Me. Take mine.”    

Bruce immediately shakes his head, stuttering as he tries to remove the rubber band. “Nu-uh, I don’t know if you know this but you’re human. I need two bags, three tops. I can’t just take it all from you right now!”    

“Then get me some cookies and a juice box. I don’t care how much you have to take to make him speak a coherent sentence. Do me.”    

Bruce hesitates but he rushes to the cabinets for the needles, vials, tubes, whatever - “No, do it direct.”     

Your words startle the two doctors but they don’t question it. They hook you up and poke the needle in the first vein they find, attaching the tube instead of a single vial and direct it to Steve.      

“You sure your blood matches?”     

You give Bruce a pointed look as if that isn’t something written on your dog tags or on your weekly personal reports.      

In the end, you’re told that you gave him the equivalent of two pints of blood. Not that you were awake for the second anyway but you vaguely remember Steve’s voice ringing in your ears. You’re not awake as he regains consciousness or to witness his very confused glare at seeing you in the bed next to him.     

He swears he heard small mumblings… ‘If you die because of some highway robbery, Rogers --- I’m never gonna fucking stop bullying your grave --- haunt it’.... ‘Stay --- with me, please’.... ‘---supposed to apologize first’....   

He tests the waters, mumbling a name he only says with annoyance nowadays. But now, it’s gently said. Soft, a whisper that sounds like a fractured hymn. 

Present Day, 2025, 12:05 pm

     There isn’t a set emotion in the world that seems appropriate. What are people supposed to feel when they’re singled out and chosen to suffer a life of pain? Self-hate? Pity for themselves? Anger? Sadness? Remorse? Nothing?

You really don’t know what you’re feeling. In the middle of rubbing vaseline on your newly acquired cuts and scrapes and bandaging yourself up, biting on a belt as Bucky set your shoulder back in place, and lying with Steve discussing everything and nothing all night after your promise - well, what the hell are you supposed to feel? As inevitable as it was considering he had ordered you shot before, the one feeling you know you feel is betrayed. Because even though Ernesto has proven himself evil time and time again, to his own flesh and blood, there was still a small part in your heart that didn’t think any parent truly wanted to inflict pain on their children. And your heart keeps proving itself wrong again and again.

“You just... jumped out of the car?”

Ramirez’s voice snaps you from your inner thoughts. He was let out of custody this morning. He’s currently filling in anyone who asks about the shipment, about Ernesto’s future plans, about the role he thought he had.

“Against my better judgment, but yeah.”

He chuckles and grins like he’s a kid hearing the best story ever told. “That’s what superheroes do. At least, what I’ve seen in the movies. John Wick, Bond, esos tipos.”

“I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, Omar,” there’s a teasing tone, “but I’m a fucking Avenger.”

That makes him laugh louder and in turn pulls one from you. “Ya se, ya se. I’ve known you since you were born. It’s weird hearing stories about you saving the world and jumping from bombed cars.”

“Mm, wait until you hear about that time I went into space and landed on another planet. Or time traveled. Take your pick.”

He’s stunned into silence and after a few more praises, he lets you return to typing out your report. There are plenty of other agents around for him to busy himself with. The base is tiny and not at all what you expected, but it’s secure enough to fit Torres, Sam, Bucky, and about fifteen other agents as they prepare for tonight. The plan you and Steve outlined was simple: attend the wedding, butter everyone up, send Steve away to help Ernesto retrieve and move the shipment, Scott and Sam will infiltrate, Bucky would be on standby to help you fight, and the rest of the team at base will begin arrests and sweeps. If everything goes according to plan, at least.

It’s easy to speak negatively about these things - there really were only two ways this could go.

You finish your report and go to stand, only realizing a minute later walking through the base that Ramirez is following you. You send him a funny look over your shoulder and he returns with a small smile of his own.

“Tengo preguntas!”

You stop and let him catch up. “Hmm?”

“Okay,” he starts, motioning his hands wordlessly until he could form them. “Are you and the Captain actually... juntos? Or just Avenger partners?”

“That’s personal, Omar,” you say with a roll of your eyes. “But I guess? That’s weird discussing with you.”

He nods in agreement. “It’s okay, I was just curious. So, him being mad was just an act? He doesn’t really hurt and threaten you, no?” He’s treading lightly, but you can already see the cartel mind turning. He would order Steve’s execution if he had to, even if he believed it to be morally wrong in some situations.

“Never. It was just an act for Ernesto.”

“Ah, Dios. Thank goodness.”

“Yeah, keep your men in line. It’s fine.”

He chuckles at that. “And the other Avengers?”

“They’re my family, Omar,” you grin wide, waking slower for the old man to keep up. “They would never hurt me.”

“That’s good, but not what I was asking.”

“Oh?”

“What are they like?”

Handing your report to one of the agents at a handful of monitors, you laugh loudly. “Do you want to meet them officially?”

“Aye, I know my daughters would like that...”

You raise an eyebrow.

“But I would like to meet them, too.”

“That’s what I thought. C’mon.”

The rest of the team are all relaxing and discussing the past days events in the lounge area, which is really just a glorified break room. Bucky’s still in his morning sweats same as Scott, Torres is already suited up, and both Sam and Steve are wearing their Avenger gear (minus Sam’s wings and Steve’s battered shield). Steve is the first one to notice you enter and he instantly gets up from his chair to greet you with a kiss on the cheek.

“Gross,” Bucky mumbles.

“You’ve been trying to get me a girl for over ninety years, Buck. And now that I’ve finally got someone who likes me back, you bully me for it?”

“Who’s bullin’? I said the same thing when Agent Carter smooched you in the weapon’s room and you thought you were alone.”

You pat Steve’s shoulder. “Think about it, Rogers. When Bucky settles down with someone, you have free reign.”

Steve pulls a thin smile and glances back at Bucky. “I’ll make them hate you.”

“Love and hate are the same thing, pal. It worked out for you two.”

“Okay, we’re done. Everyone, Omar wanted to formally introduce himself.”

Ramirez gives a shy wave. Torres returns it. It’s kind of hilarious to witness. Here you all are, Avengers and some standing over six feet with one of the most wanted drug lords in the world, and the all mighty drug lord is shy. 

“I’m so sorry we got off on the wrong foot.” You notice how when Ramirez speaks to strangers or those he deems good people on his side, his accent is a little thicker. It’s like he wants to speak only in Spanish other than the Spanglish you were all accustomed to. “But it really is an honor to meet you all.”

Scott is the first to stand and shake his hand. “Sorry I pointed my gun at you, man. Habit.”

Ramirez chuckles, “Sorry I broke into your room.”

Steve interjects, “Thank you, though. For telling us what more we’re fighting for.”

Ramirez nods, a solemn look spreading over his face. “The minute I found out, I didn’t know who to tell. I’m lucky you were never truly on his side.”

“And what will you do after all this is over?” Bucky stands. “How do we know we can truly trust you?”

Ramirez sneaks a glance at you and you raise your hands. “Hey, I’ve got the same questions as him.”

Ramirez must know he isn’t getting out of this one because he answers quickly. “Drugs have a market where people choose. I just meet supply and demand protocols. I don’t do the unnecessary violence or blackmail. There is no need to. People will always want drugs.”

There’s a round of agreement throughout the small room. Ramirez continues, “But smuggling humans? There is no choice, nothing moral about it, it’s evil.”

“But people get addicted to drugs. They die from them everyday,” Sam argues.

“I produce and deal what you American’s call weed. Ernesto does the big stuff, as does White. I’m,” he laughs a little. “I’m their weed guy.”

“That is true,” you confirm. You’ve moved and packaged Ramirez’s product before. “Literally just weed.”

Everyone seems deep in thought, like their processing Ramirez’s words and the weight behind them. Ramirez ran with the big boys and was the biggest distributor of marijuana in Mexico and America alike, but he never messed with any other product. Besides producing, selling, and smuggling illegal weed, his only other crimes included conspiring with Ernesto on how to get the product over state lines.

“Okay,” Steve starts. “So how is tonight gonna work? We have to discuss that.”

Ramirez bows his head. “You’ve allowed me safety, you’ve listened to me speak, and you’re saving both my life and my daughter’s. If you must arrest me, then you arrest me.”

“The minute you’re transferred to a prison with less security, Ernesto’s men will get you,” you reason, already shaking your head no.

Ramirez gives a nonchalant shrug, “But you’ll get him and White. That’s all that matters.”

You look over to Steve for some other ideas, but like you he doesn’t have any. No one seems to have any.

Torres matches his shrug and his voice is small as he speaks, almost like his next idea is insane. “We can always put him in the Raft.”

Everyone’s eyes go wide.

“That’s where all the enhanced humans go, no?” Ramirez is stunned. “Do I count?”

“We’ve got no idea,” Steve rubs at his chin, looking at you for confirmation he knows you don’t have. “But it’s an idea.”

     The plan is no longer singular. Fury had sent his best field agents for the job, the ones with the best aim, the ones with great strategic planning. Although you and Steve were still in charge, it was no longer just your mission. Your mission was to arrest the big three, big four when including Seda. That was it.

The plan goes like this: half the team will be focused on the venue itself, hidden in the shadows and monitoring the big three as well as your mics, and will aid you in the physical fight and arrests. Some are on the ground while others in the sky. Afterwards, they’ll sweep the estate and collect stolen property or priceless artworks. The other half is split into two, where one of those halves will be spread out for miles to capture anyone that might slip through, like guests who were on the most wanted list or guests that have helped Ernesto in the past. The other part of that half will intercept the shipment (once Steve radios in the location), save the hostages, and shut down the routes. 

They instruct Ramirez to call Ernesto and to ask him if there’s a vegetarian menu offered. Ernesto responds with only a muttered groan and in a wild turn of events, asks if Ramirez can call you to make sure you arrive earlier than expected to make sure Jackeline walks down that aisle. He’s completely serious. Not only does Ramirez play along, but Ernesto doesn’t give any indication that he knows about the car bomb. So the team makes a judgement call: this was only Seda’s doing.

Ramirez is then told that the Raft is not an option; both the US and Mexican government want him and the only reason he hasn’t been arrested is because he still has many cards to play. The more he helps, the less time he’ll get. 

One thing is known: this is the biggest mission anybody has been on in over two years. 

      Bucky remembers things in bits and pieces. Sometimes he’ll be minding his own business, enjoying this new world and the countless amenities it offers, and remember exactly where he was on the hottest day of the year in 1936. He remembers the blistering heat, boiling his once pale skin and giving him that beautiful olive he was now known for. He remembers the way his tongue dried almost instantly the moment he stepped outside and how he asked his next door neighbor, Ms. Kranshall, for a cup of water before work. He remembers her massive square glasses and how they nudged the tip of her nose as she nodded sweetly at him. He remembers her high but smoky voice and the way she patted his shoulder as he drank the cup down. 

The first time he remembered Natalia was around the same time he remembered Steve. He sees a flash of ember in strands, speed almost matching his, and he sees those panicked green eyes he was once all too familiar with. 

She was twelve when he first met her, forced to throw her around like a ragdoll until her ribs were bruised and her spirit broken. He went again and again, and when he wasn’t forced he would teach her how to fight properly and how to shield her most vulnerable areas. Scared as she was, she never showed it in those private moments, and decided to follow his lead in most things. And she learned to be fierce, no matter how hard he hit, and he still remembers the look in her eyes and the pull of her young face as they yanked him away for cryo before he could congratulate her on winning her first fight. 

The first time he remembered you was when you leapt onto T’Challa’s back as the chase neared, tackling the young prince become king, and watched with sad eyes as both him and Steve climbed onto the jet for Siberia. He remembers your clumsy punches when you fought him with half his brain and how he kicked you so hard you flew. He also remembers how when you took that kick for Steve, the sound of his wail almost deafened the soldier. 

Everytime he remembers something, a memory, no matter how strangled it may arise, the twinge in his chest is good. He’s remembering. He’s James Buchanan Barnes.

He feels that same twinge when a face full of freckles greets him at the entrance, documents raised above her head in a show of selfish glee, and a pep in her step that tells him she remembers him too. 

“Sergeant Barnes!” Maribel gives a toothy grin. “Never thought I’d see you again!”

Bucky tilts his chin up and rests the tip of tongue between his incisors. “What? Hydra wasn’t enough for you, you gotta infiltrate the Mexican cartel, too?”

She scoffs playfully, “Other way ‘round.”

He snatches the documents from her hand and leads her inside. “I hope you got something here. Steve put a lotta faith in you.”

“Don’t you trust me?”

“Y/N does. That’s enough for me.”

Rolling her eyes, she snatches the documents back to turn the pages herself. “Follow me. We need to chat in private.”

“Shouldn’t we get-”

“I’d rather you know, and you tell them later. No audience.”

This causes Bucky to tense. He follows her in further and closes the door behind them both. 

The left side of her face had less freckles back in 2012, he remembers, and now she’s covered in them.     

Bucky remembers things slowly, but he remembers them. 

      It’s cold outside, air bruising your skin, and there are hundreds of goosebumps now erupting. You joke with yourself that in the end, you’ll most likely have to ask Steve for his jacket and ruin your overall look but hey, you’ll be warm. The wedding doesn’t start until five in the evening and it’s one’oclock right now, and there are white clouds in the sky instead of gray and the songs of some desperate birds searching for their lunch near your ears. It at least drowns out the constant noise of the agents hammering away at each other and preparing for tonight.   

It makes your stomach roll: these agents are putting their lives at risk because of you. 

     You stepped through the discarded papers and tried not to leave your footprint anywhere important. His office was empty, left in a state of purgatory, and his lamp was still on. It’s like he stepped out for a minute.

You picked everything up: pens, computers, books, chairs. Under everything, there was dust. 

He really did die.

As much as you wanted to step on his remains and spit on him, you couldn’t. The gash in your heart was still open and bleeding for everyone else and there was no room left for anger. You were indifferent, for lack of a better word. Frustrated?

A paper crumbles outside his office. No one had followed you in - a week after the snap and every single person on earth was still searching for loved ones or running from something - so no, no one else was supposed to be here. Mexico had been hit hard, it’s government shattered, and every cartel was picking up pieces or tearing the world further apart. There was no line anymore. 

You twisted around and aimed your gun at the door, immediately lowering it when you saw Natasha raise her hands. She had this embarrassed smile on her face like she knew she had been caught.

“I meant to say hi over your mic. But you turned it off.”

You sighed deeply and dramatically shrugged your shoulders. “Well, I’m here. Guess who’s not.”

Natasha only nods and steps further into the room. She looks over the same things you did. “He’s gone? Good, good riddance.”

“But his death means nothing if trillions of others died also. It’s so fucking typical of him. If he’s going down, he takes everyone else with him.”

“He didn’t take them, Y/N.”

“I want to be happy,” you spit out through clenched teeth. “I want to feel relief. The fucking bastard is finally gone and I can’t even enjoy it properly.”

Natasha takes one more look at the hallway before letting her guard down almost completely. She envelopes you in a hug, squeezing tighter each time your breath hitches. “Hey, listen to me.”

“He’s gone.”

“I know,” Natasha’s voice is low and reminds you of the gentle hum of record static. “He’s gone and he can’t hurt you anymore.”

“But everyone-”

“No,” she pulls away and places both her palms over your neck. “He’s gone. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

It takes a while before you’re nodding along, repeating her words gently.

“You’re more than the pain he inflicted. You’re more than his name or crimes. You’re worth more than his impact ten times over. He can’t hurt you anymore. I know everyone’s gone, and we’re going to fight like hell to bring them back, but in this little moment, this little thread you can pull - pull it all out - he can’t hurt you anymore.”

She’s all muscle and bone and blood and real. What would you do without Natasha?

     The grass beneath your bare feet calms you down. It’s tendrils are a little ticklish and there are droplets of silver morning water fog melting as they touch your skin. Focusing on the feeling isn’t enough to get you out of your own head and for a wild second, you think the God of Thunder is going to come up behind you and hold your hand. It’s peaceful out here, but what you wouldn’t give to see him again. 

The day before Steve and Carol returned the stones, he had been here. He did as he promised: the second the flood of happiness extinguished like a Christmas candle, he found you settled in the mass of pillows with only instrumental music playing. He left for two cups of tea, sat in silence with you as you both drank, and whispered a strangled ‘I’m sorry’ as if you weren’t meant to hear it. Apologizing for someone who did come back, and you for someone who didn’t. 

‘You know I don’t regret what we did. We brought everyone back.’ 

‘Don’t try and justify your sadness. Not at all, not with me.’ His voice was stern and his eyes serious.

‘I’m sorry he didn’t come back.’

His eyes had closed, as if he was expecting that apology, and he looked out the window where the sun was just barely rising, shining on him and him alone. ‘I’m sorry, too.’

There are footsteps, though. Heavy ones, footsteps that announce his upcoming presence on purpose so as to not startle anymore. Bucky was too generous for his own good. 

“Had a visitor.”

You remain silent as Bucky sits next to you, looking up from his spot and expecting you to sit as well. “There’s water on the grass.”

“There’s water in the air in this godforsaken state, now sit down.” A push of laughter escapes your lungs but you follow his instructions anyway. 

You sit in silence for a few minutes, admiring the way the pine trees bend slightly with the gusts of wind and how the birds have changed their pitch. You expect Bucky to speak first so you occupy that time by playing with the strands of wet grass. 

“In 1997, I was taken out of cryo for a mission.”

You wince on accident. This wasn’t how you expected the conversation to start. 

Bucky continues, “There was this man south of the border.” He points south to prove his point. “Hydra wanted to take him out because he was interfering with the drug routes they were monitoring.”

“Hydra controlled drug routes?”

“Hydra had their heads in plenty of places. They didn’t control them, but they did monitor them.”

You shake your head in understanding. “And this man?”

Bucky sighs heavily. His eyes are focused on the gentle yellows behind the trees instead of you. “He was told to take out another man traveling through and out one of these drug routes. He made a different call.”

“Who was your visitor?”

“Maribel.”

“Wha-?” You go to stand but Bucky gently pushes your left shoulder back down. “Why are you telling me this and not her?”

“She wanted me to tell you. And I guess, in turn, you tell Steve and the rest of the team.”

“Bucky,” your voice trembles on accident. “Tell me.”

“The man I was ordered to take out was Maribel’s brother.” He chuckles at your frantic shuffling and pushes you down again. He continues, “Hey, it’s okay. She never knew him and she doesn’t hate me for what I was.”

You don’t really believe him. But his face isn’t telling you otherwise. You're stuck between wanting to dig for more information and giving him a giant bear hug. “Did you… succeed?”

“The soldier ever rarely lost.”

Your face contorts. “Bucky…”

“He disobeyed orders, Hydra didn’t like that since it disrupted the drug routes, and so I was sent to help. Hydra didn’t seem to care about the man he let go, though.” Bucky shrugs and starts playing with the grass behind your hand. “The thing was, Maribel’s brother had been doing this a long time. Ernesto was on Hydra’s radar but in a good way. Maribel’s brother was also given very specific orders from one other person - their mother.”

The story pieces are all discarded haphazardly, pieces that are from different boxes and don’t seem to entangle properly. 

“She told him to let the man go. Because this man was an American, and killing an American on Mexican soil was something that was impossible to hide from the claws of the law. So, this American made it back on US soil safely and was never heard from again. Until 1998, when he tried to re-enter Mexico under a false name but with one purpose. To see his newborn baby girl.”

The yellow behind the pine trees fades into orange. 

“Are you saying-?”

“Maribel’s mother kept everything your mother left her when she tried to cross the border herself. Your real birth certificate, her real birth certificate, you.”

Bucky looks over finally, sad smile and all. “Maribel thinks, and now I think, that Ernesto isn’t your real father.”

There are so many questions formulating at the base of your skull that you don’t really take the time to absorb the news. “What did she bring you? What was in those papers?”

Bucky seems startled that your reaction wasn’t one of shock. “Like I said, Maribel’s mother kept a lotta things.” He pauses momentarily before speaking again. “Blood results was one of them. Still trying to authenticate them.  The American was a doctor, after all.”

“A doctor,” you whisper. 

“A doctor. He changed his name but he’s alive. Maribel’s checked.”

“Why would she tell me this now? Why now just hours before the wedding? Isn’t that why you guys didn’t tell me about what was really in the shipment?”

Bucky winces and his expression tells you he’s sorry. 

You continue, “Why now? Why does it even matter anymore?”

He inspects you quickly, scanning your features for any signs of discomfort. “You’re okay? I thought this would surprise you more.”

The chuckle you release is dry, kind of harsh. “It actually answers a fuckload of questions. Like, number one, why he fucking hates me.”

His eyebrows scrunch together. “You think he knows?”

“If he doesn’t, then he’s a super fucking asshole instead of just a fucking asshole.”

Bucky pauses again and smiles up at the sky. The clouds are white and extra large today, and he suddenly remembers the taste of that mini popcorn he had bought and shared with his little sister Becca… Becks… while watching Snow White and the Seven Dwarves at the theater. The salt and butter had stuck to Becca’s fingers and she had wiped them on Bucky’s sweater. He remembers scolding her for that but giving her a napkin in between his giggle fit. He feels the same swell in the meat of his heart listening to you. “We don’t deserve you. You’re like the moon. Always there, shaping yourself into what that person needs, crater after crater beat into you and yet, you move the tides.”

The little snort that leaves your nose hurts a little. “That’s pretty damn poetic for this moment of ‘you’re not the father!’”

Bucky bites his lip and smiles toward the yellow and orange hues. “Like the moon.”

      The hotel had replaced the door, no questions asked. The reason Sam decided to bust open the door instead of using the very functional key you had given Torres? No one knows. But the poor receptionist was told that you couldn’t possibly change rooms because this was top secret business and you absolutely wanted to slap Scott upside the head for worrying her. So they fixed the bolts and gave you all new keys. 

Didn’t matter much anyway since you weren’t sleeping here tonight. You had already packed and made the beds. 

You lay your dress and Steve’s dress attire on the respective beds. The dress sent over was a backless red silk, spaghetti strapped and slit on the left side - you’ve wanted to wear it since it arrived when Scott did. 

Steve knocked before entering the room. You almost laughed at the gentlemanly aspect of it. “Thought for sure they’d have kept you for another hour at least.”

“I gotta change sometime. That your dress?” Steve shrugs off his uniform and climbs on top of his freshly made bed.  

“That’s my dress. Sort of skimpy for a wedding, no?” You hold it up to show him the front and back.

“Does ‘skimpy’ mean bad?”

“Means slutty.”

He gives you this disappointed look, like he’s judging your vocabulary. “I wouldn’t use that word. So no.”

You silently apologize and move the dress over to the end of your bed. Everyone else was also getting ready for tonight. Agents were posing as local police, many infiltrated the wait staff, suits were being double-checked for any malfunctions. There was so much going on, but all was relaxed in your room. Steve smiles at you from his bed, head resting in his palm as he leans up to stare at you. It’s impossible not to blush under his stare, so you move to climb into his bed. You lay down with your feet to his head, the sides of your hips pressing together; just two upside down puzzle pieces. He chuckles and goes to lay on his back, right arm coming up to lay rested on top of your right thigh. 

“All this week I thought I wasn’t ready.” You’ve had no more nightmares. “But I am. I’m ready to end this.”

He runs his fingers delicately along your thigh. “I’m ready to help.” He sighs deeply and cranes his neck to try and meet your gaze. “We’ll make sure they get maximum time.”

“You know that’s not our call.”

“Still.”

You rest for another few minutes, gentle touches calming you. His body is so warm, emitting sweet thoughts like the beginning of spring heat, and it’s impossible not to curl up into it. Steve breaks the comfortable silence, “What are you thinking about?”

You suck in a breath and tell him the truth. “That in the matter of like… five days, you and I are basically lovers now.”

“Lovers?”

“Lovers.”    

He laughs out loud and goes to sit up.  “I intend on taking you out when we get back home.”

Lifting your head, you rest on your elbows and grin at him. “Oh? And where are you planning on taking me?”

He thinks for a second before pressing his lips together and giving up. “I have to ask Peter or Wanda. I have no idea where you go during the day to eat.”

You laugh, “Seriously? I could’ve sworn you tagged along once or twice.”

“Nope. I always refused.”

You frown slightly, “Riiight.” Not wanting to rehash the reasons why, you try to soften any wrong feelings about what that implies. “I’m sure you’ve been, though. I take Bucky places, too. Ask him.”

“Mmm, I have my pride. Can’t have Bucky thinkin’ he knows more about my girl than I do.”

You smile largely now and hope no lipstick rubbed off on your teeth. “Your girl?”

Steve averts his eyes like he’s just now asking for your name and if you’d like to go dancing. There’s a beautiful scarlet glow painting his pale cheeks. “Like I said, I’m taking you out and asking properly.”

“We’ve already surpassed third base. I remember it vividly.”

His smile falls comically and he turns to grab a throw pillow to smack you with it a couple times. “Crude! Crude as always. Goddamn.”

“I’m sorry! Hey, I’m sorry!” 

He stops his attack and pulls you into his chest. He warms your back instantly. “So, you’ll let me take you out?”

“I really, really like french fries,” you hum lightly and tilt your head back to lean into his shoulder. 

“That narrows it down, thanks.”

You chuckle due to his sarcastic tone. He rubs his hands up and down your arms. An idea formulates while in the warmth of his body. “You know what I really want to do after we finish with this?”

“What’s that?”

You tell him honestly. “Rent a cabin. Spend a Christmas there, maybe. Catch some fuckin’ fish. Experience the snow properly.”

His eyebrows furrow like he’s dissecting such a claim. “I… wasn’t expecting that.”

You shrug, “Sounds cool though, right?”

“Got room for one more?” He looks down to meet your gaze and there’s a glint of hope shimmering in the blue of his eyes.

       “Nat… Natasha.”

Natasha took in a sharp exhale as she lifted her head from the desk, left cheek numb and pink. Steve shot her a funny grin and continued shaking her shoulder until she fully opened her eyes. She slaps his hand away with a huff of laughter. 

“Come here to do your laundry? You know, there’s only so many times I can help prevent shrinking shirts.”

Steve scoffs, “I used to do laundry by hand. I can figure out a few buttons.”

“You would think.”

Steve rolls his eyes and bumps her shoulder with the palm of hand before speed-walking into the kitchen. “It’s one of those days.” He opens the high cabinets and pulls a few vodka bottles. 

Natasha pushes down whatever was starting to eat at her. She calms her deep breaths and rises from her chair. No words needed to be exchanged. She makes her way over to pull two glasses from the same high cabinets. 

Steve watches her a little hesitantly, but she has that lopsided smile that pinches through only one cheek and her eyes are the slightest bit swollen from her power nap, and Steve breathes a sigh of relief. She tilts her head to the other side of the kitchen, that lopsided grin gracing her bare feet. Steve fumbles through a few cleaning supplies and some plastic bags before he finds the bottle. 

“I hid it after… after Thor had that meltdown a year ago.”

Now, he was second guessing. It was a small bottle, only half left, but half a bottle of Asgardian liquor was enough to knock the God on his knees. For Steve, a few sips would do the same. But he needed it, he needed it, god help him. It’s been four years, he needs it. “Be my designated driver?”

“How about you spend the night? Y/N wanted to start a new show anyway.”

“I’ll be passed the fuck out during the opening credits.”

“But you’ll be here.”

Steve sighs and pops open the bottle. Natasha puts her hand up to stop him from pouring, “Check under that sink again.”

His eyebrows pinch together but he does as instructed. More cleaning products… more cleaning products. He tilts his head to look at the corners and there it was: a small, pink paper airplane taped mid-flight. Steve hunched his shoulders to grab it and crawled out carefully. “You know, you’re not supposed to tell me where you hide them.”

“Well, I felt bad! I’ve found like fifteen of your blue ones and how many do you have of mine?”

“That’s besides the point-”

“Say it. You’ve found six.”

His cheeks turn hot. “I’m not here all the time.”

“Excuses.”

“I leave mine in good spots. You probably got better eyes or something.”

Natasha laughs, loud and from her chest. “Sure. But hey - I’ll promise you somethin’.”

Steve pours the Asgardian liquor into his glass and straight vodka into Natasha’s. “What do you have in mind?”

“You find more than me by the end of this year, and I’ll take that vacation.”

Steve takes his first sip and tries not to pull a hard face. “You’re on. But what if you win?”

Natasha raises her glass and clinks it with his. He wants to apologize for forgetting to toast but her eyes are playful and forgiving. “You come with me. I’m not the only one who needs it.”

“So, I win regardless?”

She takes a sip and pulls a funny face. “Easiest battle, don’t ya think?”

They’re off their right minds twenty minutes into drinking and the common area is chaos. Pillows are thrown, the TV somehow ends up with dozens of fingerprints, and they’ve broken a couple flower pots. The cushions of the couch know Natasha’s bare feet and Steve’s boots; the walls fail to constrict their loud singing; Rhodey has already snuck past them to get himself a snack undetected. 

‘And so I cry sometimes when I’m lyin’ in bed, just to get it all out what’s in my head!’

‘Hit the high note, Rogers!’

‘When you do, I will!... I scream from the top of my lungs-’

‘What’s goin’ on? And I say, ‘hey!’ ‘hey!’ I say ‘hey!’ What’s goin’ on?’

Steve’s still clear-headed enough to twirl Natasha around. She’s flexible enough to climb onto his shoulders.

‘I pray every single day - for a revolution!’

She’s starting to slur her words and Steve wonders if that blond streak in her hair was there last week. 

‘The story of my life! I take her home, 

I drive all night to keep her warm and time, 

Is frozen!

The story of my life, I give her hope, 

I spend her love until she’s broke inside!

The story of my life.’

She can longer feel her toes but seeing Steve let go makes her so incredibly happy and breaks her heart. I needed this too, she thinks.

‘So, bye-bye, Miss American Pie

Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry

And them good ol' boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye

Singin', "This'll be the day that I die

This'll be the day that I die!”’

She’s all muscle and bone and blood and real. What would Steve do without Natasha?

     “You wanna come?”

“Sure. I’ll cut down the trees for wood. Have a real fireplace.” He’s serious, you realize. Like, really truly serious. 

Your heart swells with excitement and some other feeling you can’t quite place. But it’s good, like really good. The sigh you release is full of sweet wonder. “A real Christmas tree.”

Steve tightens his grip around your arms. “December’s right around the corner. Trees should be ready and standing tall.”

It’s almost too much to imagine. You have the sudden urge to talk specifics, to plan out this vacation. A beautiful, rustic cabin with only a coffee maker brought from the outside century, knitted quilts, real snow, Steve’s body heat, Christmas lights… inviting Sam, Scott, Wanda, Peter, and Bucky down for Christmas dinner and presents. A whole sleepover filled with ghost stories, candle burning, board games, Christmas movies. You’re up and tucking your knees under yourself to look down at Steve in an instant. “You’d throw on that checkered shirt, grow out your beard even more, and chop down a few trees for me? With me?”

“There’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be,” Steve says, eyes crinkling. For a second, he’s worried you’ll realize that he’s quoted your letter. But that same moment, you’re giggling with excitement over your future plans.

“Well, we lasted a week here without killing each other. The holidays always hold a few surprises.”

Steve picks up another pillow.

       Business is not conducted during the church service. It feels normal, with half the guests attending the service and watching the happy couple exchange vows, while the other half only arrives for the party. 

Jackeline’s dress is modern with a mix of vintage - simple, with long sleeves of lace and fabric that isn’t entirely white but with hints of beige; the dress dips lower in the back than it does in the front, and it’s tight near the waist but loose as it drapes down her long legs. Her hair is left loose and her make-up is heavy, and she illuminates under the sun rays that burst through stained cathedral glass. You don’t even pay mind to Ernesto and Seda seated in the aisle in front of you - not when Jackeline looks the way she does. 

As the service ends, Steve tells you to wait until most of the guests exit. The priest eyes him warily, inspecting his young face and build and obvious persona. He says nothing, but he places a gentle hand over the cross on his chest as he follows the guests out. Steve stands, and out of respect dips his fingers into the holy water provided near the heavy wooden doors. He signs the father, the son, and the holy ghost and dips his fingers in again to sign the same on you. With a silent thank you and tender wipe to your forehead, you don’t question it. He’s not Catholic, or at least you don’t think, but you know he does it for what’s to come. No matter your beliefs, he just wants something, someone, to protect you. You turn back to the cathedral and grip the door as you bend down to one knee and tip your head. 

       Everything is grander, that’s for sure. The decorations are tripled; the violet lights are reflecting like diamonds off every marble and glass surface; the chandelier’s are no longer gold sculptures but diamond; the clay flowers hanging from the ceiling yesterday are now a part of the centerpieces, squeezed in with the largest bouquet of roses and violets; the live bands (because of course there are two) are each still setting up as everyone is getting seated; and there are about fifty round tables circling the large dance floor. There’s still a nice view of the lake and the pine trees ahead, and the tarp was abandoned as there was no rain in the forecast. All in all, and there were a thousand other things you could focus on but didn’t have the energy to, everything was beautifully put together.

Jackeline wasn’t lying when she said half of Mexico was attending. Besides family, there were celebrities in attendance, famous musicians who were simply guests and not performing, family of some of the other biggest drug lords from both countries (minus Europe), and a couple politicians who dipped before the new couple even walked through the doors after seeing Steve. But Steve worked his magic like he had yesterday and had everyone eating out of the palm of hand in pure amazement. He even had a famous actress hanging off his shoulder in under three minutes. Walking away to go congratulate Jackeline, Steve doesn’t miss the quick, sarcastic flick of your middle finger aimed in his direction.  

“You’d tell me if you needed my help, right?” Jackeline asks after a while, bottom lip dripping champagne. She wipes it gingerly, careful not to smudge her pink lipstick. 

“I would if there was anything wrong,” you respond truthfully. She pauses to swallow her sip and squints. She follows your gaze to Steve, whose right arm is being tugged by a girl who looks about twelve with five multi-colored bows trailing down her french braid, and who is also trying hard not to blush at the very attractive actress he can’t seem to get rid of. 

“You’re going to stop him, aren’t you?”

You glance to your left, but it isn’t really a question. Jackeline knows. “Yeah.”

She nods and tilts her chin up, eyes still on Steve. “Make him watch as you burn it down.”  You know she’s referring to Ernesto. She continues, “Every last bit of it.”

Smiling down at your feet, you raise your glass at nothing in particular. Just to salute the night air and whoever is watching. A few seconds pass as you both watch the guests enjoy the music and appetizers. Jackeline shuffles in her heels but she doesn’t seem to want to leave your side just yet. “You run, you understand?”

She’s only momentarily startled by your words. “Okay.”

“I never meant to leave you here, Jackie. I just had to find a way out first.”

“You found a loophole,” she chuckles, but the next moment she’s serious. “There is no way out.”

“Might not be,” you admit, downing your glass in one shot. “But I know this. He can’t hurt you anymore.”     

      You don’t exchange more than a few words with Steve before he’s called by Ernesto’s men and motioned toward those massive dry lava rock doors; doors that don’t muffle sound but are strong enough to withstand a bullet wound. You watch him leave with them, and he shoots you a smile over his shoulder to simply look at you. Your eyes swell only slightly, burning the corners and blurring everything. He’s bright and brilliant, walking head first into Hell and shining like the bolts of Zeus.

Steve has faced giants before, from all backgrounds and all worlds. He has blocked their punches, taken near mortal injuries; stared them in the face with every ounce of anger and determination his cells could produce. There was always this whispered voice in his head that warned him of the last day he would pick up that shield. In 1945, the voice was loud and raging as he drove that nosediving plane into the Arctic. Over the last few years, however, the voice had quieted and let Steve ponder his fate himself. Steve swears the voice, or rather his own conscience, is getting tired. 

He listens intently, responding only when spoken to, and prays his mic is picking up every bit of this conversation. Ernesto commanded the room as he screamed orders in both English and Spanish. His men fell in line; some as determined as the old man, some quiet, some bothered. Didn’t matter what the orders were. Steve noticed the few who would glance at one another and speak their distaste with their wandering eyes. And when Ernesto would speak directly to Steve, the same men would pinch their lips into a thin line and glare. 

The shipment had arrived mid-conversation and as men were sent out to do their jobs, Ernesto kept Steve behind. I need you to stay with me until the shipment is secure and can be moved - you’re my bodyguard, Ernesto had told him, confident and only slightly bending his back in discomfort from the weight of the day. Steve agrees, and hears Bucky mention how they have eyes on the shipment from the sky. 

Steve stays by Ernesto’s side even when Ramirez is called in. He’s prepared for a bloodbath, for two big men to cement their graves in this tiny office, but it doesn’t happen. Or at least, it doesn’t happen yet. Ernesto regards Ramirez as an old friend and finally trusts him enough to tell him what the shipment contained. Steve isn’t surprised, however, when Ernesto takes nasty satisfaction at Ramirez’s horrified expression. Because even though Ramirez had already known, the confirmation adds a multitude of terror. Steve can feel his palms sweating. 

As expected, Ernesto tells Ramirez that he plans to use his lands for his gain. The safe thing to do would have been to agree, to nod along, and to live in the knowledge that the shipment most likely wouldn’t head out. But Ramirez, for some reason Steve can’t fathom, stands up and says no. 

Steve understands now; the odd shaking of your shoulders even when your face was completely blank and emotions calm. He watches the beads of sweat drip from Ernesto’s forehead onto the tip of his nose; he watches the way his chest heaves as his voice becomes louder; he watches until he can’t take anymore and he enlarges the shield with Scott’s tech and tells Ernesto to move away from the other man. Steve understands now - the man really is scary, even if he wants to admit it or not.

      “You really are a phenomenal actor.”

Swaying slowly, you try not to step on Seda’s feet as he guides you across the dance floor. The music is calmer than it was five minutes ago, the guests are enjoying dinner and conversing, and Steve had told you fifteen minutes ago that he would be right back. Ernesto had sent you a malicious wink, but you knew better. Steve’s name was written in blue and Ernesto’s real target had to be you. 

“Acting with what? Acting that I enjoy this dance? Acting like I respect you?” Your upper lip twitches into a teasing smile. “Or acting like I don’t know it was you who planted that bomb?”

He matches your smile, looking down at you with a glint in his eyes. His grip around your waist tightens. “Acting like you’re really on our side.”

Lowering your voice just a fraction, you lean in, top of your head level with his chin. “I’m on Ernesto’s side. You almost had me and my Captain blown up.”

His left hand is settled on your shoulder and he uses the opportunity to dig his nails in. All around him, his men are watching. “How did you get away?”

You give a dry laugh. “You think that was my first bomb? It was childsplay.”

Seda scoffs, “You speak of this Avenger business like I don’t know who you are. You’re still that scared little girl who hid in her room when alien’s fell from the sky.”

“I may be. But there’s a difference between you and I. I actually stared them in this face and won.”

“The second time, maybe”

Sticks and stones, but goddamn did those words always hurt. Blame goes a long way but you and your team are used to keeping it close to home. “Why do you want me dead?”

His scowl deepens and the wrinkles by his eyes crinkle over each other as he squints down at you. “The Avengers are not secretly on our side. Tony Stark never was but Ernesto loves to tell people otherwise. Same about your Captain. You’ve been playing us for years.”

“What evidence do you even have? For years, we’ve done nothing but clear the roads for you,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief. 

He unwraps his arm from around your waist and sets both hands around your upper arms. He’s pressing down as hard as he can but still loose enough not to draw unwanted attention. He breathes a sharp exhale, and the puff of air hits your cheeks. “I don’t know what happened to my men after you got what you deserved. They were good men and just like that, erased.” He smirks. “I know you had something to do with it.”

A guest with bright red hair laughs loudly to your side as she is twirled around by her partner. It’s not as vibrant as you’re used to, but you still imagine that lopsided smile you hadn’t seen in forever. “Does it matter? You know what they did, so why is my hypothetical revenge chastised?”

“Tell me right now that none of your Avenger friends did your dirty work. Tell me your Captain’s hands are clean.”

“I promise you, my Captain is clean.” Seda doesn’t show any signs of believing you. Still, your mouth twitches into a mocking smirk. “But our once mutual friends Tony and Natalia tell another story.”

“Am I supposed to believe that two people who are dead are responsible for this? Ironic,” he grits his teeth.

You repeat, clear and true. “My Captain is clean.”

He fakes a tiny gag but you know he means his disgust. “You turned over so quickly for him. For the heroes who destroyed the world. Pathetic.”

“You really need to stop underestimating me,” you practically order, voice full of warning and annoyance. 

Seda continues, “Following orders from a fascist. Following orders from a country that only does harm.”

He turns you around as the dance instructs, a half-hearted waltz that didn’t have a beginning, middle, or end. You take that second to scan your surroundings and weigh your options. “I agree about the country part. But I don’t follow orders from the country, I follow them from my Captain.”

You’re facing him again and in those hellish eyes you see truth. “No, he’s a symbol of everything we hate. Of everything we need to destroy.”

“Touch Steve and I’ll blind you.”

His feet stop mid-step, as do yours. His eyes widen only a little, but it’s all the ammunition he needs. “I knew it.”

It’s barely a whisper, a tickle from a single strand of hair, but you catch it. No longer keeping it a secret, or rather a secret you didn’t care that you let slip, Seda now knows it was all a lie. All this time you had never referred to Steve as anything other than your Captain.

You feel the blunt head of a .22 press against your abdomen as Seda laughs, “You never could get a mission right.”

Twisting his arm and knocking the gun from his loose grip with your wrist was easy. So was catching the gun mid-air and elbowing him in the ribs. Seda falls to the floor in a state of shock, instinctively gripping his chest. You aim the gun at him and like you’ve seen in the movies, place the tip of your heel just below where his belly button would be. He releases a sharp breath and his eyes are challenging, practically begging you to dig deeper and get on with it. 

You can hear the screaming and frantic murmuring from the guests surrounding you and the leveling of guns from Seda’s men. But you’re focused on the man trying so hard not to quiver beneath you, his nasty grin spreading wider. 

“You’re alone,” he bites. “Your Steve is helping Ernesto right now, no? You’re alone.”

Your grin forms slowly, and you’re counting down the seconds you have until his men start firing, but you lean your upper body down slightly to make sure he hears you. “That’s never been a problem before. Don’t you remember?” You click back the safety as discreetly as possible. “I was trained by the Black Widow herself.”

You quickly raise the gun to shoot the closest of Seda’s men in between his collarbones, effectively starting the bloodshed. You jump out the way in a flash, rolling across the floor and behind a table. Tipping the table over is easy and it seems like a smart idea at first, until you realize the tables are all glass. The tablecloth had covered that detail, which sucks like hell, because now the bullets are shattering through and you’re forced to kick yourself away and run behind the pillars instead. The heels are kicked off at the same time you’re fishing underneath your dress. 

A stray bullet hits the pillar’s side making you squeal. It makes you work faster, though. 

Once you find the secure nano-tech ‘button’ (as Scott liked to call it), you strip as quickly as you can and slap the button on your bare shoulder. The nano-tech spirals and threads into itself as intricately as frost spreads on a window, shielding you in both metal and kevlar. 

When a storm of bullets hits the pillar and cracks the marble, you’re forced to crouch and hope Seda’s .22 and the myriad of weapons you’re now equipped with are enough. Before your thoughts can creep into a ‘last man standing’ mode, a roar of wind sweeps across the estate and between the cracked pillars, causing your loose hair to slap your face and blind you for only a second. Quickly putting your hair up and pulling the metal batons from the back of your suit, you’re met with the best sight - one that was a little late, in your opinion. 

“Kind of you to show up!” 

Sam ignores your quip as he flies into three men at once, feet first with his wings extended with the might of a guardian angel. He immediately shields runaway guests who were caught in the middle. He takes the ones on his left, you take the ones on his right. 

You let them swing first. They’re fast and pulling their punches and are clearly aiming for the end result of sticking you to the ground. But you’re quicker and deflect the punches. You manage to deliver a solid punch upward to crack the nose of one. As he reaches up as instinct, his ribs are open season. 

He falls out cold easily after your batons do their damage and the next man isn’t nearly as fast as the first. He doesn’t move enough to his right to avoid the harsh kick to his sternum. Each ambitious kick to the chest seems to demolish the man’s protective wall he’s trying desperately to keep intact, but once you give your legs a break and switch back to the batons, he doesn’t stand a chance. There are bullets raining across the venue, but Sam is shielding you and deflecting them elsewhere. It allows you the freedom to rip into whoever you think deserves it. 

You’ve got two men on your tail and after knocking their weapons from their hands, it seems like a fairer fight. The first doesn’t step back far enough to avoid your roundhouse kick and he falls hard on his ass, gasping for a lick of air. The second is closer, however, and manages to wrap you in a chokehold. Releasing yourself to fall deadweight for only a second, gravity tricks him and you use the momentum to kick up and fly over his shoulders. It’s hard to do without a wall to propel yourself off of. But your abs and thighs are clenched and you don’t quite think you’ll actually end up on this guy’s shoulders but you do. You don’t dwell on that moment of personal pride, though. Tightening your thighs, you use your upper body weight to lean downward and wring his neck. Once he’s down, you sweep your leg around across the floor to trip the other man who was just barely standing back up. With the .22, you fire point blank. 

Detaching yourself from the gore has never been much of a challenge. Eyes rolling back and clouding, limbs dangling limp after having just been full of life, bodies thumping against the floor after eating your bullets - you don’t so much as grit your teeth anymore. 

Sam is dealing with his own mess closer to where that poor cake is now destroyed, vanilla filling exposed and now two stories instead of four. The other cakes are no better. Sam pulls the trigger once more at someone charging at him and he averts his eyes. Sam, however, clenches his jaw. 

“Where’s Seda?” you shout, firing at men who are jumping out from behind tables but giving away their location before they even surprise you. 

“Lost him. I think he’s heading over to Steve!”

You look over the room and pray everyone got out safely. There are no civilians lying in their own puddle of blood, no guests begging for help, but you can never know for sure. “We need more hands. Where the hell are Scott and Bucky?”

A storm of bullets starts crashing into the tables and pillars beside you. Trying to duck doesn’t work and you’re grazed in the left arm. Sam tackles you behind the stage, wings extending further and out bending around you. 

“I’ve been shot!”

Sam can’t help the laugh that erupts from his throat because of your dramatic tone. “You’ve been grazed. The nano-tech has already rebuilt itself.”

“I don’t care, I hate being shot. It’s not nice. I’ve been hit.”

“Dramatic.”

“Y/N?” a harsh whisper sounds from under the stage tables. Watching your eyes bulge paints a mournful expression on Jackeline’s face. Julian is right beside her, pistol out but not shooting. You wonder if he knows you’re the invader.

“What in the hell are you still doing in here? I told you to run!”

“I’m sorry,” Jackeline squeals as bullets continue firing. “Everyone crowded. I was scared so I just got down.”

“Sam.”

Sam nods, already reading your mind. You had to find Steve; you couldn’t stay here. But there’s bullets still blazing in your direction and you find yourself hopping on your ass slightly each time a bullet connects to the ground beside you. The nano-tech does great in deflecting the lead but it really isn’t an invitation to get shot more times. The graze on your arm is already starting to burn. 

“Sam is going to guide you both out of here, alright? Julian, cover her. Sam will cover you.”

There’s a war going on behind Julian’s eyes. His face does a thousand things at once as he hears your orders and the scream of guns combined, but he nods. He grips Jackeline’s waist and pulls her in close, but before they can begin crawling Jackeline turns back to you. 

“Mátalo. Okay? Para nosotras dos.” She’s got this fierce determination in her eyes and her accent is as thick as can be. 

“Okay.”

Sam relays his location over his mic and who he has behind his wings, but before he can safely guide the married couple down the stage, a new wave of men enter and open fire. Sam’s wings can only take so much, and even though they’re vibranium, his suit is not. Ducking behind the table and reloading your gun, you then lift your head over to view the scene. It’s a mess and you could surely take them down hand-to-hand if you were close enough, but you’re stranded with your batons and seven bullets and a world of automatic machinery pointed at you. 

The storm of bullets pauses and every single person looks up to the sky. You thank the Gods for no rain today because the absence of a tarp allows for the quinjet to settle over the chaos and create a much needed distraction. Sam takes his leave, wings still wrapped around your sister, and you do the same. Running from behind the stage with batons lit up and tazed, you knock out the closest men. They fall in a strangle of electricity, vibrating and convulsing as each shock travels through their veins, ultimately paralyzing them for however long it turns out to be. This gains the attention of almost everyone else but before they can train their weapons back toward you, the back of the quinjet opens. There were a few tables still standing and it seemed the super soldier liked them better than the flat floor. 

The glass shatters from the impact of Bucky’s weight, glasses of champagne and plates with unfinished meals folding onto the shards. He’s dressed in his tactical gear and a dark navy blue jacket without a trusty sleeve. Even if the arm was covered and his hair was long rather than the short length it was now, the men would certainly know who just fell from the sky. Almost immediately, the men scatter. Bucky takes them down one by one, shot after shot, and decides to use his knives for the ones who don’t run. It’s tricky, but he manages to lodge his knives in the base of the spines of those who later changed their minds. 

He catches your eye after you manage to snap the neck of one of the runners. He tilts his head toward the left and watches you run to give Steve the backup he needs. 

     The mansion seems longer, wider, just generally bigger as you rush through the rooms and halls to get to Steve. The stuffed exotic animals follow your gaze and you can’t ignore them for long. There are men following you and men leaving Ernesto. You duck behind the standing polar bear and wait until the footsteps sound farther. Checking the amount of bullets in your gun, just in case, you finally flick the safety off and run.

There’s really only one thing of importance floating around the padded confines of your skull - get Steve out. Another thing you two had in common: both sacrificial idiots. But there wasn’t any way that you would give up the chance to save his life, as he would yours. Didn’t matter if the man you were protecting him from was your father or not. It hadn’t really settled, hadn’t truly digested, and you didn’t think it ever would. Because for years, this man was your father. He was the only man with that title. He wasn’t fatherly, far from it, but he had the label and that’s what you were going to focus on. It made no difference. 

You push the office door open and start stuttering over your words. You want to ask what happened, why there’s so much blood, whose blood it is, but all that comes is a fractured series of what the hell’s? The last syllables push through with necessary force, hardly intelligible, but exhaled at last. 

Ernesto is kneeling with his head hanging low and his hands behind his back, defeated. But it isn’t Steve who’s holding a gun to the back of his head - it’s Seda. 

No, Steve is in the corner clutching at his right hip and gritting his teeth, a wild look on his face that tells you he too was blindsided. He’s hurt. He’s gasping and wincing at the slightest of movements and it ignites the flame you’ll use to burn this world to the ground. It’s splitting your fucking ribs apart. 

“Don’t move!” Seda yells, gun still locked on Ernesto’s head but eyes on you. “Put the gun down.”

“Seda-”

“Put the fucking gun down!” 

Biting your tongue, you flip the gun in your hand so it’s facing downward and move to gently place it on the table. Flicking your eyes to where Steve is, you get your answer as to why he’s been so easily shot. His massive body and shield are draped over Ramirez, who is also disarmed and pissed. 

The self-righteous idiot, you think, he’s always gotta save the little guy.

“We’re gonna talk about this like the gods we are, yeah?”

Your face pulls awkwardly, “Seda, what is happening?”

“Don’t act like you’ve been on this asshole’s side the entire time now,” Seda bites, shoving the head of the gun harshly into the base of Ernesto’s neck. “Go on, tell him.”

“The shipment was intercepted,” you tell him. But you’re not just telling Seda, no, it’s the first Steve is hearing the good news and it allows him to feel a bit of relief. “You’ve both lost.”

“What have you done?” Ernesto screams, cheeks vibrating and face red with anger. He pays no mind to the gun and dares to glare at you. “Tell me!”

The top of your lip greets a run of tears and snot and it isn’t until then that you realize your hands are shaking mid-air and your throat is closing. “My mission.”

Blood or not, this man had the power to tie your thoughts into knots. He only had this power at precious moments and sadly, this was turning out to be one of them.

Seda bites out a laugh - it’s wet and bloody and scares you half to Hell. “I’m not the only one here who wants to kill you. But I’m going to beat her to it. She brought you back, I can’t have that.”

“No!” You curse inwardly at your involuntary hiccup. “We’re not here to kill you!”

“Oh?” Seda raises the gun at you. “What’s the endgame? Que mas necesitas?”

“I don’t need anything. The shipment is intercepted. The estate is on lockdown. Your routes are down. You’re cornered. It’s over.” You let your shoulders drag just a little. “For both of you.”

Surprisingly, Seda doesn’t pull the trigger when Ernesto charges toward you. He doesn’t pull it when Ernesto wraps his hands around your throat, either. 

It’s instinct for you to hold out your hand to stop Steve from doing what he does best. He’s already halfway up and wincing with each push to help you, to rip Ernesto from your capable body, but Seda clicks the gun in his direction. Steve watches the way your arm extends, all five fingers spread in a hopeless plea of ‘don’t you sacrifice yourself for me, don’t you dare’. 

“I have done nothing but help you! I put food on the table and clothes on your worthless back! You spent my money!” Ernesto’s eyes are practically bulging and his thumbs are almost crushing your windpipe, but his placement is off. You can still breathe air, no matter how bruising his grip may be. “This is how you treat me? I should have killed you all those years ago. I should have ripped you limb by limb until your cries bled!”

“Please,” you whimper out, hand still extended toward Steve and the other attempting to push Ernesto by the chest. 

“Please? Please? Te voy a matar aquí, ahora, porque siempre te lo mereciste!”

You let out a strangled scream and are about to fight back. To save yourself and to end Steve’s suffering of watching you suffer, of watching his newfound hope dwindle right before him, when a gunshot erupts. Everyone screams, ears ringing, and there’s blood splattered all over your cheeks and neck, spots and leaks that trail down into the collar of your bodysuit. A heavy weight lands on you and knocks you back into the shelves. You hold Ernesto’s now limp body as best you can, knees locking painfully. There’s a massive hole where the top of his head should be and for the first time in years, you have to look away to keep from throwing up. 

“Dejalo.”

You open and close your mouth but regret it when the taste of copper lands on your tongue. You follow Seda’s order and drop Ernesto to your feet, the thud sending a shiver up every single one of your vertebrae. 

“Por qué hiciste eso?” you ask him, voice small. You choke on another hiccup. 

“Don’t lie to me and say you weren’t going to do it yourself.”

You look over at Steve. His eyes are just as wide as yours and the same red specks, now turning brown, are tainting the flush pink skin of his beautiful neck. 

“No,” you whisper. Steve hears your lost accent returning and it clutches at his heart. 

“It was for the best.” Seda marches over to grab Ramirez by the tie, ripping him up from the ground and pointing the gun to his head. Steve lunges forward and Seda fires another bullet into the same hip. 

“No!” Your throat is raw, scratched, and Steve hits the floor in another heap of muffled groans. Seda returns the aim on Ramirez. 

“Imagine my surprise when I saw this one confronting Ernesto with your Captain. Imagine my fucking surprise when I tried to find all our passports, all our files, and nothing was here! Imagine my surprise when I saw that fucking idiot White being taken away by one of your agents!”

“Seda, please.” You were never much of a negotiator. It was always go in and let the others do the talking. Steve was the talker, he was the negotiator, but he was out of his element. He was always the enemy to Seda. He could never convince him otherwise. 

“You’ve given me new purpose,” Seda grins and Ramirez is rather calm in his arms, like he accepts this. “Look at the crime scene. I’m using the gun Ramirez got from your team. My men are still loyal.”

He pauses and smiles with all teeth, blood in between most of them. “You shot Ernesto. You shot your Captain. You shot Omar.”

The frightened look on your face seems to fuel him even more. He continues, “We’ll never stop hunting you.”

“Try it,” Steve manages, standing up again and vaguely registering the flash of light to his right. His shield is no longer there. “You’ll have to kill me to win. You’ll have to kill all of us to win. Me, Y/N, Omar, Sam.” He breathes in deep but smiles. “The Winter Soldier.”

You swear Seda’s face pales but his grip around Ramirez’s waist only tightens. “Easy.”

“It won’t be,” you finally say, voice no longer wavering. There’s no plausible way Seda could win. But one thing is fact: whether they’re Seda’s or Ernesto’s men, they’ll never stop hunting you now. “You lost, Seda.”

All stills but there are shouts and the ring of gunshots still echoing near the lake. 

“No,” Seda looks to you and to Ernesto’s body. “I didn’t.”

He aims the gun at you and fires. 

Steve’s wail is grease to the fire in your soul and you accept whatever pain might hit. There’s space and then there isn’t. There’s emptiness and then there’s a space being filled by that horrid but lifesaving shield. There’s no one and then there’s Scott, blown up to his regular size with shield in hand and in front of you. The bullet bounces off the shield easily and hits the wall. You’re pushed into motion and in about two seconds, you’ve grabbed your gun again and do not hesitate to fire. The bullet hits Seda in his exposed chest and Ramirez fumbles to get the gun from him. Seda hits the floor and no one else follows. 

The shot hits its target perfectly. Seda doesn’t so much as stutter. 

“God,” Scott grumbles, eyes trying to focus on anything other than the pools of blood. “Was I late?”

You don’t pay any mind to Scott and rush over to Steve, where he’s barely holding himself up with his hip tilted on the edge of the desk.  “Steve? Steve. Did he hit anything important?”

“Besides the fuckin’ meat of my stomach?”

There isn’t a way to see beneath the kevlar, but your fingers have a mind of their own as they try to dig in. “You know what I mean.”

Steve huffs a laugh and gently slaps your fingers away. “No, but motherfuck me Christ, I get shot way too much and it hurts no less.”

“Was the shield not enough? You had to sacrifice your one-hundred year old hips? Are you hit anywhere else?”

“I was caught off guard. What about you? I heard over the mics that you were shot and-”

“Are you two done?” Scott interrupts, clearing his throat awkwardly but half a mind still paying attention to his own mic. 

It’s like you’re snapped back to reality. There’s not only Steve but others, alive and dead, and the smell of copper is all too familiar.  “Sorry, I’m still in shock. I don’t really know how to proceed from here.”

“Y/N-” Scott tries, but you resume.

“We were supposed to arrest them. Just arrest them.”

“Okay, I think we should get you outta here,” Steve acts like he’s the one guiding you, but his weight is falling. You faintly register a phone ringing in the room but Steve, ever so persistent, is still acting like he is holding you up. He lunges forward with a sharp wince, and your hand immediately goes to his hip. 

“Captain.”

Ramirez lowers his phone, call ended, and he wears an expression Steve recognizes immediately. It’s an expression that looks all too similar to Dugan’s when he relayed the news of enemy forces breaching their base. “...How many?”

“They’ve already sent the news to their men in Mexico.”

“Have they shut down the border?”

“It wouldn’t make a difference.”

“They don’t know two of their men are dead, so we can-“

Scott shakes his head, shield still in hand with specks of blood drying on the blue stripe. “They know White was arrested. That’s all they need. They’ll assume the rest, the worst.”

You sigh, “Seda was right.”

Scott literally pouts and he looks like he wants to wrap you in his arms. “No, don’t send yourself there.”

Steve, however, agrees with you. “If they know about White, then they know about Omar. Seda had time to tell his men.”

“Then we make sure he’s arrested and taken to a secure facility. We can keep an eye-” Scott starts, but you shut him down quickly.

“He’s wanted by the US government, not the Avengers. We can only transport him. We can’t guarantee his safety.”

Ramirez gives a small smile. “Mija, voy estar bien. No te preocupes.”

“I don’t know.”

Scott looks between the three of you. He places the shield against the wall near the door. He raises his eyebrows at Steve and looks to his wounds, but Steve waves him off. Reluctantly, Scott nods. “I’m gonna go check on Sam.”

There’s a pool of blood near your boots. You don’t want to know if it’s from the dead or from Steve.  

“Doll, what are you thinking?”

He can’t hurt you anymore. “That I need you to go, too.”

Steve forgets about the pain in his hip and focuses solely on you. “What?”

“Go. If there’s one more thing you can do for me and my reckless family, go check on Sam.”

“You know I can’t leave you here alone with him.”

Your voice is steady and calm and it’s scaring Steve. It’s scaring him. “I promised myself that you wouldn’t be hurt by this mission. I stand by it.”

“I promise, Captain, I have no resentment. Whatever she does, I will follow,” Ramirez speaks, and Steve doesn’t even pay him a glance. 

“I can’t just go.”

“Steve,” you interlock your fingers behind his neck. “Please. Listen to me.” He looks so confused, a million questions flying through his mind and almost escaping those sweet pink lips. Fierce, you whisper for only him. “He can’t hurt me anymore. He can’t hurt me anymore.”

He relishes the feeling of your soft hands behind his neck. They’re bloody, but yours. His neck is bloody, but you don’t seem to care. “Two minutes.”

“Two minutes,” you confirm.

He pulls from your hold and turns to leave. He picks up the shield. Before he leaves, he grips the doorway and looks over his shoulder, eyebrows pinched and jaw tense. “Two minutes, I swear to Almighty Christ, Y/N. I’m coming back for you.”

You smirk, the dim light from the office lamps creating nothing short of a sparkle in your eyes. “I don’t expect anything less, Rogers.”

Steve hesitates for a moment and then he walks away. Once his footsteps are no longer heard, you turn back to Ramirez. There’s a voice in your head telling you this was a bad idea and that you were an idiot to have your back turned on him for so long, but Ramirez is simply leaning on one of the chairs and grimacing at the bloody scene before him. 

“Remember when Ernesto bought you that car when you were thirteen? And then another when your brother crashed it?”

Your nose pinches, “I don’t feel like reminiscing when he’s lying right there.”

“Do you remember what you told me when he bought you that second car? The sports one?”

You sigh. Ramirez was clearly going to continue speaking. “‘No lo quiero. Soy una niña. Get rid of it.’”

“And I did.”

“You did.”

He smiles, and for the first time you notice all the gray hair dusting his head, the most by his temples. There's a limp in his step too but you can’t remember if he had before or after the wedding. “I’ll get rid of this.”

“What?” you blink, unsure if you heard him right.

“I’m already a traitor. If I spin this, you can continue the mission. You can arrest even more of his men. They’ll come after me instead of you.”

It’s what he’s been trained to do. It’s what he’s done since he transported his first shipment. It’s what he’s done time and time again for Ernesto, for Seda, for some of his own careless men. He’s numb to it, just as you were a few days ago, but now you can’t stop thinking about the aftermath. Where would he put their bodies? Would they be buried here or back in Mexico? Would people really care if Ernesto was dead? They didn’t seem to care when he was snapped out of existence. But Ramirez has this sag in his shoulders that tells you he’s already calculating the best way to wrap the bodies and how deep he plans on sending them… or burning them. Burning them was always easier. 

“They’ll come after your family. Your daughters.”

He shakes his head, “I’ve ensured their safety. They’re safe.”

Against your better judgement, you tap your mic discreetly and turn it off. “I can’t let you take one for the team.”

He chuckles, “I’m a part of your team? I’m an Avenger?”

You can’t help but laugh with him. It’s not a light moment, but it’s a moment nonetheless. “Sure, Omar. But we don’t trade lives.”

“I had this coming.”

“No, you didn’t. You don’t.” Straining your ears and shutting your eyes, you mumble a quick prayer in hope that this plan of yours worked. You pass Ramirez your own gun and speak low. “Go.”

He’s shocked and he stutters. “Que haces? Que esta pasando?”

“There’s no one on the east side right now. All the guests were moved to the front. It’s clear. But not for long.” Pushing him to the door, you make sure he’s not leaving any bloody footprints behind. He’s clear. “Go.”

“This will kill us both.”

“But it will give us a head start.”

“No puedo hacer eso! No quiero hacer eso.”

“Omar, they’re not going to protect you once you’re charged. I can’t protect you then. So I need you to go.” You reach into your suit and pluck that random Roman coin you had stolen just a few days earlier. It was a token of good luck but you didn’t need it anymore. You avoid looking at the carving for fear that the likeness to Steve will make you change your mind. You place it in Ramirez’s hand and clench his fist shut.  “If there’s one thing you can do for my stupid, anti-hero mentality, go.”

“Que hago con esto?”

“No me llamas. But let me find this.”

He looks at you with pity. It’s so much pity and understanding for your situation that you have to look away. “I owe you my life.”

Eyesight now on the wall over his shoulder, you offer him a thin smile. “You wouldn’t be the first.”

He stumbles at first, unsure if this is really happening, and finally passes by. “Y/N.” 

You figure it’d be pretty rude not to answer. You turn slowly. He continues, face somber and head shaking with so much pity. “The amount of Hell that’s coming...”

It’s funny, really. You shoot him that famous smile you were known for. It tricks him like it’s supposed to. “I’m already going to Hell for the lives I’ve taken and the crimes I’ve committed. But the journey to my fate has been worth it.”

     The estate is being swept as quickly as possible. There are agents dressing wounds, reading rights, snapping photos, on the phone, etc. It’s organized chaos and there’s so much happening but it’s never impossible to catch Steve’s side profile in a crowd. His nose is pinched up and he’s dealing with his wounds himself. No one is even looking at him. 

Speed walking to him, you hook your arm in his and turn him around. He’s too tall, and your toes strain as you rise on them, but you wrap your arms around his neck anyway. He returns the gesture and squeezes you as hard as you’re squeezing him. After a few seconds, he whispers quietly.

“Where’d Ramirez go?”

If he saw your eyes, he would know you were lying. You keep your arms in place. “He got away.”

He tries to push you away but fails. “Y/N.”

“He got away,” you repeat. Slowly, regretfully, you pull back.  “We should go.”

There’s a horrible crease in between his eyebrows and he knows he’s caught you in a lie, but he also knows that if there was one thing he knew most about you, it was that you were just as stubborn as he was. Quick with wit, always asking to be punched, and stubborn to the point it made strangers worry. So he doesn’t question it, and turns with you in the direction of the jet.  “Maribel has the safehouse set up. Montana.”

“You sure you can make it to the jet? Should I get Bucky to come with us?”

The quinjet is empty except for a few supplies, a medical bag, and Friday. There are only two seats and by the way Steve’s bending over to show his true pain, you’d be flying it. Once you land, you can fish out those bullets.

“No one else.” Steve bites. He can’t risk anyone else - hell, he doesn’t even want to risk you. “I’ll protect you.”

You board the jet and watch as the trees sway in rhythm to the movements of everyone doing their job. It’s dark, and you push the fact that you’re so horribly night blind to the back of your skull, and it’s starting to eat away at you that the mission didn’t really go as planned. No one seems to notice yet that you never brought them the two main players they were hoping for. It only makes you close the quinjet faster. You sit Steve down in one of the seats and kneel before him. “And I you.”

If anyone asked, Steve would lie and say he was tearing up because of the bullets piercing his skin in half.  To protect and be protected. 

“Let’s go.”

~

TAGLIST: @dumb-ass-writer @justab-eautifulmess @supraveng @mycosmicparadise @missnighttigress​

#steve rogers x reader #reader x steve rogers #avengers x reader #reader x avengers #Steve Rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #to topple #a giant #by Moni #captainsimagines #mob fanfic #trigger warnings listed #enemies to lovers #friends to enemies to lovers #mini-series #part eight #chapter eight #marvel fanfiction #marvel masterlist

[sepublic]

I just want to mention that Lilith and Eda had actually met Belos back when they were kids, according to Eda’s anecdote at the Covention. We don’t know if Lilith and Belos interacted directly, face-to-face... But given how Lilith thought about what Belos would do in her situation (wanting to join the Emperor’s Coven yet being unable to compete with Eda), and thus decided to curse Eda... I think this makes Belos even MORE responsible for Eda and Lilith’s broken relationship, and not just in the indirect way he always had with his Coven System.

Lilith is obviously still to blame too... But if Belos deliberately took the moment to teach her some toxic ideas at such a young and impressionable age, then it’s all the more eerie the impact he has on entire generations of witches- Like how in the show’s ending, we see a pair of kids building his castle out of sand, because at such a formative age they’re taught that Belos and his home is a wonderful place to fantasize about! Something fun and normalized, just a part of everyday life... And it’s so much more messed up and understandable that kids would really dedicate their dreams and lives towards joining Belos, and basically look to him as a mentor- Potentially in the absence of parents. And the worst part is that Belos knows this and it’s EXACTLY how he wants it to be... It’s so difficult for kids to unlearn that kind of thing because all of society around them is brought up under the idea that THIS is the status quo! It’s so hard to get away from this sort of thing, it’s like an abusive relationship...

So again, Lilith is still at fault- But it’s like she was almost directly manipulated and misguided in this scenario by her role model, and it’s kind of terrifying... Especially since Eda used to look up to Belos, too. Belos knows he’s a role model and thus a teacher to kids in a lot of ways, so it’s all the more terrible how he violates the sacred responsibility behind this role, and is so neglectful and disregarding of the impact he has, and/or deliberate about it... And so he’s abusing that power and influence to indoctrinate generations of witches into his control, it’s insidious. It’s a cultural impact that will be so hard to cleanse society of, to distance itself from that; Propaganda that came underneath such an innocent and innocuous disguise... It’s a moral dissonance that’s just normalized and arguably cult-like, grooming society to join the Emperor’s Coven or at least serve it. All of it is just downright predatory.

There’s a trust there that Belos is betraying and exploiting, and it’s such a contrast to how Eda avoids imprinting and projecting her beliefs onto Luz, encouraging her to form her own opinions and always be critical of what adults tell her- Eda doesn’t want to indoctrinate like Belos does, possibly after seeing how it harmed her sister... Yet at the same time, we have Odalia, Alador, and Boscha’s mother enforcing onto their kids toxic ideas of hierarchy and elitism, as well as vicariously living out old grudges through them- Using then more as tools to pass on their own ideas and agendas, rather than actual kids to carefully nurture and teach, and enable to grow healthy and independent.

It’s so heartlessly thoughtless about the kind of power they have and are abusing, the imbalance there is in the dynamic, and just how dependent and vulnerable these children are to them... It’s a blatant disregard towards letting these kids become their own people, and these people either leave children alone to figure this out, without consideration to the kind of horrible effect their influence is causing... or even intentionally keeping it this way. Careless neglect or calculated abuse, it’s still awful.

There is no consideration for a positive impact or how a kid will operate when alone, how one’s influence can have an indirect presence even when this child is by themselves and making their own decisions... That someone is going to use you as an example on what to do, they’re going to become like you- And do you want more people like yourself out in this world? Do you want to make a kid become yourself, and not their own person separate from that? They might be out of sight, out of mind to you- But for those kids, you’re always on their mind for better or worse... So you’d best be a good thing for them to think about, or else you WILL screw someone up.

Kids still make their own decisions, especially when they become adults- But there’s a reason why the choice of a child is always taken with a grain of salt, as they lack the permanence, wisdom, and independence to really account for who they are. They’re so liable to influence that you can’t quite trust if this is what they really choose, or just what someone else has imprinted upon them either intentionally or by accident... Yeah, people are always the product of their external influences, but still. Kids can’t exactly consent for a reason, and you should always seek to protect them from something they can’t take back, because they’re too young to fully consider and accept the consequences, nor deal with them if they come about.

So don’t encourage them to go down a harsh path, or at least don’t recklessly hasten them down towards it, when there’s still so much time and thus potential for other possibilities... You want to open such opportunities to someone, not cut them off and restrict them to a path predetermined by someone else, because then they’ll never be themselves. They’ll always be defined by something or someone else and never get to choose for themselves, never get to know themselves as JUST themselves...

And it’s an utter travesty to basically cripple someone like that, much less a child who has an entire life ahead of them that you cut off and destroy, a life they can’t so easily take back because they’re a kid and might not even realize what they’re losing. It’s a destruction of diversity and clipping of exploration, of new ideas and growth and possibilities. It kills off any chance of something else and thus sets in stone what is there, it’s bleak and so much more difficult to break free... You’ll never find out if they can grow or not if they don’t even have the room to do so.

You’ll never know for sure and just like the kid, you’re keeping yourself dumb and limited. You don’t just fail to pave the road for the future, you’re actively salting its earth and killing off what should’ve come to pass, preventing what should naturally occur on its own. And that in itself is a death- To mourn the happiness this kid could’ve had, the freedom and care they were entitled towards but then had taken away from them, just to further service someone with so much more power and control anyway.

It’s... a waste, really, taking away from others what they need for something pointless and unnecessary- Such as the propagation of a dictatorship or the pride of abusive parents. People like Belos or the Blight Parents didn’t just fail to provide, they kept kids from receiving and gaining in the first place, blocked this off from anyone else kinder and better and more thoughtfully responsible. They didn’t just give nothing, they added genuine ruin as well and made things worse instead of leaving them as they initially were- Because for a kid, without careful support and care to constantly uplift them, they WILL naturally get worse, it’s why you have to be so diligent to nurture, because they’re not independent yet and will collapse without care- They can’t stand on their own yet, and maybe never will if not properly taken care of.

#the owl house #toh #the owl house lilith #lilith clawthorne #the owl house belos #emperor belos #the owl house eda #edalyn clawthorne #meta