#I swear if it still doesn't show up in tags I will commit stab

[celamoon]

getaway car

Modern AU

--- ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ ---

The white light from your desk light burns your eyes, and you continue scribbling down notes for the last-minute homework your teacher assigned.

Two taps at your window break you from your drowsiness. You pull open the curtains, and you're met face to face with Camilo. You open the window.

"Good evening, mi vida," He grins. "Care for a drive?"

"It's 2 AM," You squint at the clock. "What are you doing here?"

"I just said," He hums. "Let's go for a drive."

"You drove your car here?"

"Wrong! My motorbike."

"Even worse," You grumble. "Aren't you not even supposed to be driving it?"

"Well..." He shrugs. "Isabela didn't teach me for nothing."

You gawk at him.

"So, mi vida? Yes or no?" Camilo swings the keys on his finger, and you think to yourself.

This is a terrible idea

but why not?

You swat your thoughts away, and you grab Camilo's hand. "Make sure I don't get caught."

Camilo helps you to the tree, and he hops down. "Come on!"

You jump into his arms, the two of you losing balance. "wait, how are we going to evade the cops?"

He transforms in front of you, and he looks taller. "Anything is possible, mi vida."

"You look so suspicious like this," You grumble.

"It's all about bullshitting till you make it."

"I thought it was fake it-"

He tosses you a helmet, and he secures it on your head. "Where do you want to go first?"

"I'm craving a corndog."

"Let's check a convenience store," He grins. "If not, then I'll bring you to the street market."

"I thought food there was dirty?"

"Whoever told you that is a liar," Camilo gets on his bike, and you sit behind him, wrapping your arms around his torso. "Hang on tight, mi vida."

He steps on the gas, and your arms instinctively wrap around his torso. The city lights pass in a blur, but you watch the streetlights blink as cars speed by. The road turns empty after a couple of turns, and you feel Camilo slow down. You realize you're in the parking lot of a seven eleven.

"If they don't have corndogs, I'll take you to the street market. They have much better food," Camilo grins. "But I know you're technically not allowed to have any food like that."

"I'm not technically allowed to sneak out either," You shrug.

The two of you enter the store, and the employee grins at Camilo. "Mi hijo! How are you? You brought a little friend today?"

You smile, and Camilo grins. "Mi vida wanted corndogs."

"Ah, mi hijo, we're out," The man sighs. "Carlos came over a couple minutes ago and took the last one."

"Ah," Camilo grimaces. "Street market?"

"I didn't bring any money."

"Don't worry about it," He grins. "Señor, can I use the ATM?"

"Si, mi hijo," He grins. "Which market?"

"I was thinking the one two streets away. The one with all the cultural stuff?"

"Ah, it's a good time to go. There aren't many people right now, and the food is still nice and hot."

"I know," Camilo hums, and he takes the cash. "That's why I dragged her out right now."

You fiddle with your fingers, and Camilo glances at you. "Did you want something?"

"Ah... can I have a slurpee?" You scratch your cheek.

"Of course!" The man grins. "It's on me."

"No, no-"

"Don't worry," Camilo grumbles. "He'll just put it on my tab."

"I'll pay," You pull out your phone, and you scan the barcode on the glass. "How much?"

"5.59," He grins.

The payment goes through, and you hum. "Shall we go?"

"Finish your slurpee first," Camilo buys a lollipop. Unwrapping it, he stares at you as you stick your tongue out.

"What color is it?"

"Blue." He pops the lollipop out of his mouth, and sticks his tongue out.

"Red."

"Wanna make purple-"

You hit his shoulder gently. "Finsh the lollipop. I'm done with the slurpee."

Camilo pouts, and he bites the rest of the candy off. "Better?"

"I want actual food," You grumble.

"I'll take you before you get any more grouchy," He grins, and he waves. "Bye, Señor!"

"Bye, mi hijo!"

Camilo drags you out, and he helps you put the helmet on again. "The road's going to be bumpy from here on out. Hold tight, mi vida."

You tighten your arms around his waist, and he starts the motorcycle. You're much more comfortable opening your eyes this time, and you stare at the more run-down buildings. The city is much quieter here, and other than the lights, nothing else blinks in the dark. The smell of skewers and arepas floats through the air.

"We're here," Camilo stops his motorcycle abruptly, and your helmet crashes into the back of Camilo's. "Mi vida, you're so excited~!"

You sigh. "Camilo Madrigal, I swear. I'm hungry, and if you don't get me food soon, I might just kill you in a dark alleyway."

"Sorry, mi vida," Camilo grins. "What do you want first?"

You mumble under your breath as Camilo takes you to the stands. Colors flash in your vision, and sparks of light fly from a child's sparkler. An old couple sits down at a bench. Another elder hands a child a cotton candy. You stop to stare at the boy who helps a girl off his bike, handing her his wallet, and the way she flushes pink.

The air blows on your face, and Camilo grins at you. It's too dark to count all the freckles on his face, but the glow from the streetlight illuminates his hair.

"Mi vida?"

"You look pretty," You grab the skewer from his hand.

Camilo flushes red, and he hides his face in his hand. "Mi vida..."

"You are," You affirm, and you bite down on the skewer. "Oh, this is good."

"See?" He grins. "Do you want a drink?"

"Not alcohol... right?"

"No." He assures you. "Unless you want-"

You smack him in the chest. "Regular, unspiked, drink."

Camilo laughs. "Anything for you, mi vida. How about you sit down first?"

You sit at a picnic table, and Camilo hands you a couple more foods. "What drink do you want?"

"Surprise me." You stab one of the meatballs. "Do you know if they have other foods?"

"I'll ask if they have takoyaki," He smiles.

"What?"

"You'll see." He grins. "Trust me, mi vida."

"alright," You start eating, and you stare at the teens running past your table. One of them looks no older than you, yet they look much happier. You wondered what that felt like. Camilo comes back with food, and he hands a plate to you before putting everything else in his arms down.

"The señora asked me if I came alone and gave me extra when I said I brought you along," He grins. "What do you want to start with?"

"Uh... how do I-"

"So," Camilo grabs the toothpick, and he stabs the takoyaki. "This one, you eat like a regular meatball. It's good, I promise."

You mirror his movements, and you hiss at how hot it is. "It's hot."

"Like you-"

You glare at him.

"I told no lie," He grins. "Blow on it a bit. Here, have a drink."

"What is this?"

"Sprite."

"Does it hit hard like McDonald's sprite?"

Camilo grins. "You decide."

You put the food on your plate and take a sip of the drink. You pause. It's really fizzy. "How'd they even make this?"

"You carbonate the life out of a carbonated drink," Camilo grins. "Is it good?"

"It's addictive," You take another sip, and soon, the cup is empty. "Wow."

"Isn't street food delicious, mi vida?" Camilo grins. "Aren't you glad you snuck out with me?"

"I'm not sure if I'll be glad when my parents find out," You grumble. "But, I'll relish in the moment."

Camilo smiles.

The moon is slowly making way for the sun to rise, and the two of you drown in a conversation. The carts slowly start rolling out, and you find yourself full. The two of you clear the table, and Camilo helps you put on the helmet.

"I don't think I've been this happy in a while," You mumble. "But I'm also exhausted."

"I'll take you home." He smiles. "Or, do you want to pretend that Mirabel went to the gym with you in the morning again?"

You pause. "Right... it depends on how long it'll take to get home."

Camilo grins. "Hold on tight, mi vida."

You wrap your arms around him, and as the sun rises, you think it isn't that bad.

#camilo madrigal x reader #camilo x reader #camilo madrigal #encanto x reader #encanto #this is a repost bc my last one didn't show up in tags #the one time I don't queue a post and it doesn't show up in tags #*sighs* #I swear if it still doesn't show up in tags I will commit stab #I FOUND THE GIF WAHHHHH

[rogue-of-broken-time]

Mens Rea: Why the Colonel Deserved Better

(This is an expansion on this post started by @pleaseletthisjimbetaken! Also tagging @damiendeservedbetter)

Remember on the livestream when Mark read a comment saying "the Colonel deserved better"?

He wasn't sure he agreed.

I don't consider myself very knowledgable when it comes to matters like law, but I remembered something I learned in my senior year government class about crime, and that is the concept of mens rea.

Mens rea is a Latin term that refers to the mental capacity of someone accused of a crime, and it's used to determine whether or not a crime was committed intentionally. It's brought into question when someone is trying to plead insanity. It doesn't exactly lessen the degree of the nature of the crime itself, but it can be used to determine the kinds of charges or punishments the accused may face.

Now, let's have a look the Colonel and Wilford Warfstache– mainly, his various homicides.

It is undeniable that he has killed many people, yes. But a commonality between them is that none of them were premeditated– I can't think of a single time where he sat down for a considerable time beforehand and contemplated that, yes, he was going to kill someone deliberately.

While nearly every one of his acts were voluntary, most were not intentional. I say this because yes, he did make the choice to bring out his gun and pull the trigger, but not with the specific intent to kill– here, his first scene in The Ned Affair comes to mind, where the officers were approaching and Warfstache sent a bullet their way (possibly because it had become a reflex for him at that point, hence his following line, "It was an accident, I swear"). The same goes for Asshole Mark, the Detective, and (Y/N) from WKM, plus his repeated stabbing of Mark from the Warfstache interview– in each case, the actual death of the victim was neither his real intention nor his end goal.

Then there were his two intentional murders– both from MarkiplierTV, the one in the game show and the one with Septiplier. Those were performed with intent to kill, but only because he thought the victim asked him to do it.

Taking all of this into consideration, let's look at his mens rea once more.

I do understand Mark's hesitance to say that the Colonel deserved better– Will's criminal record isn't exactly clean, after all– but now we have consider the fact that he is no longer sane. When he watched our body rise again and came to the conclusion that everything was "all a joke", the last of his sanity slipped out of his grasp. In that situation, there was nothing he could do to prevent madness– like I said in the previously mentioned post, it happened without his control or his consent.

Now let's talk about one more thing: his two affairs. One with Celine, the other from his video with Cyndago.

They are very different in nature.

At the time of the first one, he was arguably still sane. I do not condone cheating on a significant other in any way, shape, or form– all I can do to rationalize this one in any sense is that the two were in love, and that Celine also chose to participate, because like Mark said, you don't just "steal" someone's wife– she could also have chosen not to pursue the Colonel.

The second one, at which point in time he'd taken the name of Warfstache, is what's up for debate here. Knowing that by this point he is no longer to be considered "sane", his mens rea comes into question. The point made by @pleaseletthisjimbetaken is extremely possible: that the affair might have only been because, in his mind, that's how finding love works– that every relationship starts with an affair. Thinking how broken he really must be to have reached that point is a tragedy in itself, but like I said, it's very plausible, especially considering how broken he'd become to think that the people he kills will eventually just get back up.

I've been talking about all of this from an analytical standpoint up until now. Here is where this all gets sad:

Every homicide Wilford has committed was without the necessary mens rea to understand that everything he was doing was wrong.

He literally does not have the mental capacity to comprehend that death is permanent, that genuine love does not only come from dirty affairs, and that people don't always mean what they say.

He never had the direct intention of really, truly hurting anyone. Every gunshot in The Ned Affair was either a reflex or self-defense because the cops started shooting back. In The Warfstache Affair, he was just afraid of what he'd done, and he wasn't thinking. In the interview with Mark, all he wanted was for him to stop talking. In MarkiplierTV, he thought he was doing what his victims wanted. And in WKM, every shot we see him take was an accident because the Detective riled him up.

The fact that he's insane was neither his choice nor his fault.

And that's why I think the Colonel deserved better, Mark.

#wilford warfstache #warfstache #markiplier #markipliertv #the ned affair #the warfstache affair #cyndago #wkm #who killed markiplier #who killed markiplier theory #the colonel deserved better #kellyplier theory