#about zemo

Tagging: @defectivexfragmented @vekovoysoldat @agentsterling @shieldsfilemistress

Take the new scene. He believes Bucky is there to kill him, has ensured that his death will be on what is left of Sokovia, to be close to not just his home but to his wife, to his son, to where he’d lost them forever. He’s accepted the death, longed for it, that nod to Bucky was a silent plea, a “Please” and when the shot doesn’t come, when he realizes it’s empty you can see it in his eyes, in the way they downcast, in the subtle drop to his features. 

To Zemo his coat is more than just a coat, he greatly values it and for reasons that you wouldn’t think of at first. See, his wife gave it to him as a gift, one of the last gifts she’d given him in fact. But aside from that the reason he holds it so dear is that when it was cold he would always drape it over her shoulders, would ensure she was warm and even though it’s years later, even though there’s no way it retains the scent he swears that when he wears it he can smell her, smell the perfume she wore and the slightly sweetness at the collar. He knows it’s illogical of course but he will hang onto it as long as he can. 

Zemo will do everything in his power to not outright show his pain. You hit him, grab him, try and break an arm etc and he’s not going to outwardly Yelp. But he will wince, however slight and his eyes will always tell the truth even if he won’t let the rest of his body show it. He’ll carry on with the cocky tone, the taunting even if they’re inflicting pain.

// I mean these are all canonly listed for Zemo on Marvel’s Wiki Master Tactician, Master Hacker, Expert Engineer, Multilingualism, Expert Acrobat, Expert Combatant, Expert Marksman and they stem from the fact prior to becoming the villain we all know today he was Sokovian Intelligence officer and commander of the EKO scorpion (Sokovian paramilitary tactical Unit). And as horrible as his actions are the man built an EMP that took out an entire electrical grid in a hotel room. He’s skillful even if he uses his skills in very horrible ways. But yes, he is incredibly cocky, but he does have skills, just not super human skills. 

It’s one of those rare moments of silence, when the air seems to stand still around them as he swallows, his throat perhaps tighter than it should be. The corners of his eyes crinkling and the slightest of saddened frowns gracing his expression, for once he doesn’t attempt to mask what he he truly feeling, when it comes to his family it’s something he cannot hid. Even now, years later his pain is so raw, felt so deeply at his very core. “They were what you wish your family to be.” It’s vague at first before he continues. “My wife was beautiful, understanding, loving, she could make the worst of days vanish with little more than her soft smile and loving embrace.” She was the one that made him see reason, the one that bought a softness to his otherwise hardened exterior. “My son…” He trailed off for a moment, it’s harder for him to talk about Carl than it is to talk about his wife, to remember the moment he’d found them, to live with the image forever burned into his subconscious. “He was beaming with life, fascinated by what most of us take for granted. Innocent, happy, loved. Everything a child should be and I let him down.” 

Given the usual questions that are often directed at him this is by far the most peculiar, questions of his motivations, his actions, those are routine, this, well he can’t help but to find it odd even given the simplicity of it. It slight, the way his head tilts to the side and he offers the briefest of shrugs, “Ambidextrous.” He assumes of course they’d noticed he moves his firearm from hand to hand, and though his left one he prefers for many things both are on the same footing.