#anti reed richards

[scarlethood]

if reed richards has no haters im dead etc etc seriously how do people like that guy??? he's a spineless sniveling little asshole who folds like a wet paper towel at any opposition from authority especially when said authority is abusing their power. its a wonder that he’s dr. doom's nemesis bc he should be fawning all over his iron fist totalitarian regime! how tf am i supposed to respect a superhero who came to the conclusion: we shouldn't fight oppression from the government in fact we should be part of the in group who gets to do the oppressing after directly losing an uncle to mccarthyism?? i hate this guy! and dont come at me with his catchphrase "i'll do anything for my family" oh sure except care about his son who was used on anti mutant propaganda with reed's knowledge bc he fully supported the mutant registration act bullshit! anyway...

[burn-4u]

If you’re gonna cast a pre existing marvel hero actor as doom then why not ioan gruffudd?

They gave ultron to iron man, they gave spiderman to iron man, they gave Thanos to iron man, and now they gave doom to iron man

[barryslighting]

Victor Von Doom Aka Dr Doom ⚜️

5 out of 5 character posts being my personal favourite saving best for last from this series

[falllpoutboy]

whats crazy about the valkyrie cameo in the marvels was we all know why they put her in there. delusional fans from 2019 were urged on by the actresses to ship these two characters despite never having any scenes together and 4 years later, its “omg valkyrie saves the day in the marvels 😱😱😱 and kisses carol on the cheek 😱😱😱”

disney is never going to make mcu captain marvel gay. or bi. they dont even have the balls to properly address and discuss valkyrie’s sexuality on screen. that cameo is extremely indicative of companies giving in to fan theories and wants for the money NOT because they want to create a good story

[the-desolated-quill]

As I get older, I’ve slowly come to accept the fact that there will never be a good adaptation of the Fantastic Four, and I’ve made peace with that. That being said, it’s going to be a bit hard to stomach watching Pedro Pascal stans woobify Reed Richards like they did with Joel from The Last Of Us. 🙄😡

[neonwebs]

[rowinablx]

Sexual harassment is not a cute relationship

[imperiuswrecked]

could you please tell me how you feel about SUPER FRAME's video 'Namor Respect the King' on YouTube? Does he do a good job in capturing the character?

Here's the link if you need it - Namor Respect the King - YouTube

Watching this video and summed up all I can say to the Narrator is:

I think it's a terrible character analysis video. The Narrator could have cut this 22 minute video into less than half the time and it would have the same impact because they repeat things way too many times. Their insight into the character basically amounts to Namor/Sue & "Reed is a Cuck" propaganda, Namor is a narcissist, a homewrecker and Namor's ego stems from the adoration of his people (?????? I’ll talk more on this in a bit). They say, in spite of this, "Namor is an interesting character" many times and then fail to expand on why Namor is an interesting character. 

The Narrator's only contribution to Sub-Mariner Lore discussion is when he talks about Namor + Rime of the Ancient Mariner, however that is then negated when he equates Susan as being the personification of Life in Death from Rime of the Ancient Mariner. This video seriously tries to tie Sue to Namor far too much when if anyone actually reads Namor’s comics, Sue’s presence is very minimal. Not to mention they don't even mention that in Issue #44 of Namor, the Sub-Mariner (1990), the whole comic is a homage to Rime of the Ancient Mariner and Susan isn't in it.

I wrote out my thoughts as I watched the video so under the cut is a longer response, excuse my anger/rant:

The first thing that jumped out at me was this line by the Narrator as they try (and fail) to explain why Namor has an ego, is arrogant, and entitled; "He's also a character that's been raised to never be told No. It's made him entitled." In what Lore has Namor ever been always told yes about everything? The Narrator insists that Namor is surrounded by "Yes Men" and that "What was being created was a man of hubris, that was the favorite. Praised, loved and admired by the people of Atlantis, told that he was to be their savior." And once again repeating this same thought in a different line "When compounding all these elements What we have is a king that's been entitled, that's never been told no, that's been put on a pedestal regardless of his desire not to be praised". Lmao. I cannot take this seriously but I am trying to address more of this video. 

“Susan represents the life, the compassion, the good among mankind, Susan represents everything Namor is looking for. That's partly why he's never tried to stop boning her, ever, every time they meet he's trying to get down, make susan his wife to no avail.” < first off that’s gross, and secondly this is exactly what I mean when I say People get all their Namor characterization from how he interacts with Susan and not from his actual character. I am begging people to cut Sue out, leave her alone, why is everyone always so obsessed with a Namor/Sue connection? Get over it. 

“Namor is a character that is atoning for the sins of man” < what. the. fuck. No. Namor is not atoning for surface humans sins, Namor is the personification of Nature’s Wrath, he is the boiling anger of the Sea, he is the product of love and hatred, the balance between humanity and nature, he doesn’t give a flying fuck about making up for the sins of humans, he’s the PUNISHMENT for human’s degradation of the oceans and it’s creatures. Namor is literally Truth Coming Out of Her Well to Shame Mankind (1896) by Jean-Léon Gérôme, but instead of a well, he’s rising out of the oceans. 

The two times they mention Lady Dorma it's about her betrayal of Namor, ok what about all the times she saved Namor's ass? Or that Namor gave up his right to the throne/trident in order to save her, begged Neptune to save her??? 

“Warlord Krang loves Dorma but she loves Namor, but Namor loves Susan, but she loves Reed, but Reed loves science, Reed wants to solve humanity's problems but neglects Susan, Susan wants Reed but pushes back on Namor's advances” < once again, that’s the EARLY Fantastic Four/Tales to Astonish dynamic, that is a plot, not even accurate because Reed LOVES Susan. This is pointless to mention in what is supposed to be a video talking about how interesting Namor is, and they never once mention that Lady Dorma is the Love of Namor’s Life, his True Love, and the one woman he never truly moves on or forgets. 

"Namor is in love with the idea of susan storm because she was the one to first tell him No-” This is Betty Dean erasure. This is why I keep saying people put way too much credit on Susan for being the one to push back against Namor, Betty Dean literally held a gun to his head, she was a human, she had no powers, and through her actions and words she convinced Namor that not all humans are bad. I’m not trying to hate on Susan, I like Susan, but people need to understand she isn’t the only person who has had a profound impact on Namor’s character. 

“But he doesn't know her intimately.” Finally something I agree with, Namor doesn’t know Susan, he does put Susan up on a pedestal but he doesn’t actually know her as a person. 

“Namor is socially illiterate, never being told no for most of his life means he doesn't understand how to process rejection or the desires of others.” < Narrator, I hate you. 

“This adoration he's had most of his life, the love he's had from his people.” hahahaha what? The character who is literally hate crimed for being born half human/atlantean by both humans and atlanteans? I can count on one hand the number of supporters Namor has who love him unconditionally (romantically or platonically); Betty Dean, Lady Dorma, Marrina Smallwood & Princess Fen, Lord Vashti. The rest of Atlanteans either love or hate Namor depending on the tides, they are such fickle people, and the majority of them are racists. 

“This adoration places him on a pedestal; he believes himself better than those around him, that they are beneath him and so he doesn't have to acknowledge their feelings.” < Namor would literally die for people. I do not understand how they managed to go so off track when it’s so simple. 

I really feel like people see Namor being a Petty Bitch to literally everyone and they go “oh wow he thinks he’s better than everyone” yeah, he does, he does think that, because all his life he’s been told he isn’t, he’s been called slurs, degraded, and the only person who would boost his own self worth was his mother. Namor is a Prince of the Blood, by extension all Atlantean aristocracy is arrogant because they are literally blood descendants of a sea god. Not to mention so many characters disrespect him constantly, the Avengers, normal humans, etc. So why is he supposed to just accept that? Nah. I like when he serves tea and throws the humans hypocrisy back in their faces. 

“Namor and Susan's dynamic.” What dynamic? The one where he’s used as the obstacle between Reed/Sue? That one? “His wants and desires are paramount, because that's what always comes first” Lmao. ok buddy/sarcasm. “Reed is a cuck.” No, Reed Fucks. I have comic proof he does. It’s super pathetic how people don’t see the common tropes that are used for early F4 romance drama subplots. 

In the first 13 minutes, he's repeated the same lines over and over, “namor doesn't get told no, namor is loved by his people, namor and susan, to Namor women are a prize” I swear I’ve never left as hateful comment on a youtube video but this one really tested my patience and I wanted to post “Hey this is complete horseshit.”. 

I think the Namor & Thor comparison was interesting but it’s hardly anything new, both characters are arrogant princes of their realms who interact with humans. However the whole “Thor has a Jane, and Namor doesn’t have this, his “Jane” is a Married woman.  He never learns the lesson of his humility.” is a Bad Take. I want to know if people even know that Namor was married twice. If you really want to compare Thor & Jane with Namor, then Namor & Betty is literally RIGHT THERE. Human woman teaches arrogant otherworldly Prince about the goodness of humankind. 

“Namor has toxic character traits” good. I love that about him. People are so fucking boring I swear to god, he’s a fictional character, he can be messy! 

"While Namor is all for himself" < kill me. Namor is so selfless, he literally puts his duty to his crown/people/the oceans above his own happiness all the fucking time. 

“Namor can show pity especially when it's a mistake made in the name of love.” They are talking about Dorma’s betrayal. I want to know if they even know about Tigershark, Namor literally goes out of his way to help Tigershark despite the fact that Tigershark HATES Namor, why? Because Tigershark’s sister, Diane Arliss, wanted her brother safe. He pitied Tigershark, even after Tigershark murdered Namor’s father, he pities him. 

“Namor is a narcissist. He gaslights.” < lmao! Namor is painfully honest, he is like that dude who will look you straight in the eye and call you stupid to your face and he’s right.

It took 17 minutes for them to finally fucking mention that Namor feels out of place among the atlanteans and humans and that should have been in minute one, it should have been the main focus. Anyways I’m done. This whole video is trash imo. It’s sad to think people will find this and think it’s the definition of his character.

[urdreamydoodles]

MARVEL COMICS CHARACTERS X FEM!READER

Your lover learns that you are a mutant, and decides to act against the world that hates your kind

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Thor, Loki, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes, Matthew Murdock, Frank Castle, Bullseye, Marc Spector, Taskmaster, Johnny Storm, Reed Richards, Ben Grimm, Susan Storm, Felicia Hardy, Stephen Strange, Namor, Johnny Blaze, Eddie Brock / Venom, T'Challa, Elektra Natchios, Muse, Victor von Doom, Peter Quill & Nova

Peter Parker (Spider-Man)

- Peter had always known there was something different about you. It wasn’t the kind of different that made his Spider-Sense tingle, nor was it something he could quite put his finger on. It was in the way you carried yourself, the way your eyes flickered with an unspoken sadness when the news blared stories of mutant riots, the way you tensed when someone spat out the word like it was venom on their tongue. But he never pushed—he knew what it was like to have secrets, to cradle them close like fragile things that could shatter in the wrong hands.

- But when you finally told him, when you stood before him with your hands trembling and your voice barely above a whisper, Peter felt his heart break for you. Not because you were a mutant—God, no—but because you had lived your whole life expecting rejection, even from him. His first instinct was to pull you into his arms, to wrap you in the warmth of his love, to whisper against your hair, "You could never be anything but perfect to me." And when he pulled back, cupping your face in his calloused hands, he met your gaze with unwavering devotion. "I'm so sorry the world made you feel like you had to hide from me."

- From that moment, Peter became your fiercest protector—not that you needed protecting, but love made him reckless. He confronted every slur, every cruel whisper, every venom-laced comment spat your way. When J. Jonah Jameson ran another anti-mutant headline in the Daily Bugle, Peter slammed the paper down on his desk and walked out, his voice shaking with rage. When a man sneered at you on the subway, Peter’s hand found yours, fingers threading together as he stared the man down until he looked away.

- But it wasn’t just anger that drove him—it was justice. He swung through the city, stopping hate crimes against mutants with the same ferocity he used against criminals. He used his platform, his voice, his every breath to push back against the tide of bigotry. "You think mutants are dangerous? Maybe you should look in the mirror." And when people asked why he cared so much, why Spider-Man fought so hard for them, he would simply smile under his mask and say, "Because someone I love is one of them. And I’ll be damned if I let the world treat them like anything less than extraordinary."

- At night, when the world was quiet, Peter would hold you like you were something sacred, tracing the lines of your hands with his fingertips, memorizing you like poetry. "You know, the only thing that ever scared me about you being a mutant," he would whisper against your temple, "is the thought that you'd ever think I could love you any less because of it." And then he would kiss you—soft, reverent, as if every heartbeat between you was a promise.

Tony Stark (Iron Man)

- Tony had always been a man of logic, of science, of equations that made sense and theories that could be proven. But love was neither logical nor quantifiable, and when it came to you, he was hopelessly tangled in the chaos of it. He had seen the way you hesitated when mutant protests flashed across the screen, the way your fingers curled into your palms when politicians spoke of registration, control, fear. He had seen it, but he had never asked. He had always figured that if you wanted to tell him, you would.

- And then, one night, you did. The confession spilled from your lips like something fragile and broken, years of pain woven between every syllable. You had expected disgust, anger, maybe even that cold indifference the world had always shown you. But Tony Stark was not the world. He was Tony Stark, and he laughed—actually laughed—before pulling you into his arms. "Sweetheart," he murmured against your hair, "did you really think I'd care? You could have told me you were an alien princess from the Andromeda Galaxy, and it wouldn’t have changed a damn thing."

- But beneath the bravado, beneath the charm, there was fury—cold and sharp, pressing against his ribs like a blade. How dare the world make you feel this way? How dare they make you hide, make you think that love was something that came with conditions? The next time a senator spewed anti-mutant rhetoric at a gala, Tony took a long sip of his whiskey, smiled that sharp, wolfish smile, and said, "Funny, I was just thinking how the world would be a better place if we registered bigots instead."

- And then there were the grand gestures—because Tony Stark didn’t do things halfway. He poured billions into mutant advocacy programs, bought out entire networks to air pro-mutant campaigns, stood before the world in a press conference and said, "I’ve seen the future, and let me tell you—it’s not built on hate. It’s built on evolution, on progress, on people who are stronger than you could ever hope to be." And when people asked him why, when reporters pried for answers, he only ever said, "Because someone I love deserves better."

- In the quiet of the workshop, with only the hum of machinery and the glow of arc reactors around you, Tony would pull you onto his lap, pressing his lips against your temple. "You know," he murmured, "mutant, human, robot—whatever you are, you’re mine. And that’s the only thing that matters."

Steve Rogers (Captain America)

- Steve had fought wars—on battlefields, in back alleys, in the hearts and minds of the people. He had seen the worst of humanity, had watched hatred take root and grow like a disease. And yet, nothing prepared him for the way his heart ached when you finally told him the truth. It wasn’t anger, wasn’t disappointment—just a slow, dawning grief, not because you were a mutant, but because you had been afraid to tell him. "I fought against people like that," he whispered, his voice thick with sorrow. "People who thought they had the right to decide who was worthy of freedom. I won’t let them do that to you."

- From that day on, Steve became your shield in more ways than one. Not just in battle, but in life. He corrected people when they spoke with ignorance, stood in front of you when the world turned cruel. And when someone had the audacity to say, "But Captain, they’re a mutant—aren’t you afraid?" he would square his shoulders, fix them with that unshakable gaze, and say, "Afraid? Of someone stronger, braver, and better than you? Not in a million years."

- He marched in mutant rallies, stood before congressmen and looked them in the eye when they tried to push their agendas of fear. "I fought a war to stop people like you," he told them, voice steady, unwavering. "And I’ll fight another if I have to." His words spread like wildfire, his name became a beacon. If Captain America stood with mutants, then maybe—just maybe—the world would listen.

- But for all the battles he fought, for all the speeches and protests, what mattered most was how he loved you. In the early mornings, when the sun painted your skin in gold, he would trace slow, reverent lines along your arms, pressing kisses to every inch of you. "You are everything they’re afraid of," he murmured against your lips. "And that makes you extraordinary."

- And when the world felt too heavy, when the weight of their hatred threatened to drown you, Steve would hold you close, forehead pressed to yours, his voice a quiet vow. "They’ll never take this from us," he swore. "Not while I’m standing."

Thor

- Thor had seen many things across the realms—gods and monsters, heroes and villains, beings of power and light and darkness. But when you told him, when you stood before him with your heart in your hands, his reaction was as simple as the man himself. He laughed—a deep, joyous sound that shook the very walls—and swept you into his arms. "You think I would love you less for being different?" he asked, pressing a kiss to your brow. "My love, I am a god from another world. It is you who should look upon me with suspicion!"

- But beneath his laughter was rage—not at you, never at you—but at the world that had made you feel unworthy. He could not understand it, this Midgardian hatred for those who were different. On Asgard, power was revered, bloodlines celebrated. But here, on this fragile little world, fear turned to violence. And Thor had never been one to stand idly by in the face of injustice.

- When he heard men speak against mutants, he did not argue—he roared. His voice thundered through the halls of their governments, shaking the foundations of their hate. "You would condemn those who are stronger than you?" he bellowed. "Then I ask you—would you dare call ME an abomination?" And when they faltered, when they could not meet his gaze, he would smirk and say, "That is what I thought."

- But it was in the quiet moments that his love shone brightest. When he held you beneath the stars, his fingers tracing constellations against your skin. "You are power, you are fire, you are the storm itself," he whispered. "Let them fear you. Let them tremble. But know this, my love—I will stand beside you, always."

- And if the world would not change, if it refused to see the beauty in you, then Thor Odinson would remind them why the gods were to be feared.

Loki

- Loki had always known. He had known from the moment he first looked into your eyes, from the way you flinched at whispered slurs, the way your breath hitched when the world spoke of your kind like a disease. He knew, because he was the same. Always other, always different, always a thing to be feared rather than loved. So when you told him, when the words finally left your lips like a confession, he only tilted his head and smirked. "Did you think I would not see you for what you are?" he murmured, tracing a finger along your jaw. "Did you think I would ever love you less?"

- But behind his smirk, there was fire. Loki had spent his life at the mercy of those who saw difference as weakness, and he would not see you suffer the same. He did not fight with fists or shields—he fought with words, with illusions, with tricks that made fools of those who thought themselves mighty. He whispered secrets into the ears of kings, sowed doubt in the hearts of senators. And when they spoke against mutants, when they spat their venom into the world, Loki only smiled and made them choke on their own lies.

- He did not seek to change the world’s mind—he sought to burn it down. "Why should you suffer their hatred?" he asked one night, his voice soft, dangerous. "Why not take your place above them?" And when you shook your head, when you refused to become the monster they feared, he only sighed and kissed your forehead. "Then let them tremble," he murmured. "For you are far greater than they will ever understand."

- And when the nights were long and your heart was heavy, when the weight of the world pressed against your ribs like iron chains, Loki would pull you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. "Let them call us monsters," he whispered. "Let them fear us. But know this, my love—you will never stand alone."

- And as the fires of hatred raged across Midgard, Loki only smiled, watching as the world shifted and twisted in the palm of his hand. Because if there was one thing the Trickster God knew, it was this—love was the most dangerous magic of all.

Matthew Murdock (Daredevil)

Clint Barton (Hawkeye)

- Clint had always been good at spotting the things people tried to hide. It was an instinct sharpened by years of survival, a skill born from growing up in the gutters of a world that didn’t care if he lived or died. He could read people like maps, see the tells in their hands, the flickers in their expressions, the hesitations in their words. And he had seen it in you—the way you flinched at anti-mutant slurs, the way your shoulders stiffened at the news, the way your smile never quite reached your eyes when people spoke of them like they were a disease. But he never pushed. He just waited, patient as ever, because love wasn’t about forcing doors open—it was about letting someone hand you the key.

- When you finally told him, when the words left your lips in a whisper so fragile it could have shattered, Clint didn’t blink. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t hesitate. He only leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms behind his head, and smirked. “Well, that explains why you’re so much cooler than me.” The joke was light, effortless, but there was something in his eyes—something sharp, something raw. “You really think I’d care?” he asked, voice softer now. And when you looked away, when the weight of the world threatened to crush you, he reached for you, tugging you into his arms with a sigh. “Babe, I don’t care if you’ve got laser eyes or can turn people into frogs—I’m still gonna make bad jokes and steal the covers at night.”

- But beneath the easygoing attitude, there was fire. The next time someone sneered "mutie" under their breath, Clint didn’t let it slide. He was in their face before they even realized what was happening, blue eyes flashing like ice, his tone deceptively casual. “What was that, buddy? Didn’t quite catch it.” And when the man stammered, when he tried to backpedal, Clint only smirked. “That’s what I thought.” He didn’t need to throw punches—his words cut sharper than any arrow.

- But when words weren’t enough, when hatred turned to violence, Clint was the first to stand in front of you, bow drawn, eyes cold. “Pick on someone your own size,” he would say, voice a quiet promise of violence. Because if there was one thing Clint Barton never tolerated, it was bullies. And he wasn’t about to let the world take one more thing from you.

- At night, when the city lights flickered outside your window, when the weight of your past felt too heavy to bear, Clint would pull you close, pressing lazy kisses to your temple. “You don’t ever have to hide from me,” he murmured, voice thick with sleep. “Not from me, not from anyone. You’re stuck with me, sweetheart. Get used to it.”

Natasha Romanoff (Black Widow)

- Natasha had spent her entire life learning how to read people, how to peel them apart layer by layer until there was nothing left to hide. But you—you were the one puzzle she had never solved, the one mystery she never wanted to crack open with force. She had seen the way your hands trembled when the news spat their venom about mutants, the way your gaze flickered with something like fear when the subject came up. She didn’t push. She knew better than anyone that secrets were stitched into the skin, that some wounds bled even when they weren’t visible.

- But when you finally told her, when the words fell from your lips like something broken, Natasha only tilted her head, studying you with those sharp green eyes. And then, so softly you almost didn’t hear it, she whispered, “I know.” She had known for a while—had put the pieces together long before you ever spoke the words aloud. But she also knew that trust wasn’t something given freely, that love wasn’t about demanding answers. It was about waiting.

- And if you thought, for even a second, that Natasha Romanoff would love you any less, you didn’t know her at all. “Do you think I care?” she asked, voice steady, unwavering. “Do you think I would ever let the world decide how I see you?” And when your breath hitched, when your hands clenched into fists, she stepped closer, pressing her forehead against yours. “I have spent my life being what other people wanted me to be. I will never ask that of you.”

- But if she had been quiet before, if she had let comments about mutants pass unchallenged in the name of discretion, that changed. Natasha was no stranger to political warfare, to the slow, methodical dismantling of enemies without ever lifting a gun. When senators pushed for anti-mutant laws, she ruined them before they ever saw it coming. When anti-mutant organizations rose, they found their files wiped, their bank accounts drained, their secrets exposed. "You hurt them," she whispered into the ear of a man who had called for mutant executions, "and I will erase you."

- At home, in the safety of her arms, Natasha was softer. She kissed your knuckles like they were something sacred, traced patterns against your skin as if memorizing every inch of you. “You don’t have to hide anymore,” she whispered against your lips. “Not from me.”

Bucky Barnes (The Winter Soldier)

- Bucky knew what it was like to be feared. He knew what it was like to have people look at you like you were something less than human, like you were a weapon instead of a person. And when you finally told him, when you whispered the truth into the quiet of your shared apartment, his jaw clenched. Not at you, never at you—but at the world that had made you feel like this, that had made you afraid to tell the one person who loved you most.

- He didn’t speak right away, just reached for you, his metal fingers cool against your skin, his touch gentle. “Doll,” he murmured, voice rough with emotion, “I’ve done things that would make the devil blush. And you think I’d ever judge you for being born different?”

- But after that, something changed. Bucky had always kept his head down, had always stayed in the shadows when it came to politics and public opinion. But now? Now he was a storm waiting to break. He walked into rooms where men spoke of mutants like they were vermin and let his presence alone silence them. And when they still had the audacity to sneer, to whisper, he let them see the Winter Soldier lurking just beneath his skin. “Say it again,” he dared, voice low, dangerous.

- And God help anyone who laid a hand on you. Bucky didn’t just stop fights—he ended them. He didn’t care if it made him a threat, if it made people wary of him again. He had spent too many years fighting the wrong battles. He would not lose you to their hatred.

- But when the night was quiet, when the world faded away, Bucky was just Bucky. He held you like you were the only thing keeping him tethered, pressed his lips to your shoulder as if grounding himself in the feeling of you. “I know what it’s like to feel like a ghost in your own skin,” he murmured. “But you? You’re more alive than anyone I’ve ever known.”

- The moment you told Matt, his expression barely flickered. No sharp inhale, no startled pause. He only tilted his head slightly, listening to the sound of your heartbeat thudding like a bird trapped in a cage. He had suspected, of course—Matt could hear the way your breath hitched when someone spat slurs against mutants, could feel the tension coil in your muscles when the news spewed their poison. But he had never pried. He knew what it was like to carry a secret, to guard it like a wound that might never heal.

- When you finished speaking, silence stretched between you, thick with something unspoken. And then, softly, Matt reached for you, his fingers brushing against your wrist before lacing through your own. "You really thought I'd turn away?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper. He lifted a hand to your cheek, tracing the shape of you as if committing it to memory all over again. "I know what it's like to be something the world hates. I know what it’s like to be called a monster." His voice was steady, but there was something fierce in it—something that said, I will never let them take this from us.

- After that, Matt stopped holding back. If he had once measured his words when it came to mutant discrimination, now he tore through lies like a blade through silk. In courtrooms, he dismantled anti-mutant legislation with the same brutal precision he used to take down criminals in the streets. "Your Honor, I wonder—if my client were anything other than a mutant, would we even be having this discussion?" And in the dead of night, when those same men conspired in alleyways and behind closed doors, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen made them regret every word.

- But when he was with you, when it was just the two of you in the quiet of your apartment, Matt was softer. He pulled you into his lap, let his hands roam as if learning every inch of you anew. "You're not a sin," he murmured against your skin. "You're not something to be ashamed of." And when you whispered that the world would never stop hating people like you, his grip tightened, his voice dark with promise. "Then let them fear me instead."

- Because if the world wanted a devil, Matt would give them one.

Frank Castle (The Punisher)

- Frank didn't react the way you expected. He didn’t ask why you hadn’t told him sooner. Didn’t ask how you’d been hiding it for so long. He just stared at you for a long moment, jaw tight, eyes unreadable. And then he exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "That why you were afraid?" he asked, voice rough as gravel. "That I’d look at you different?" His brows furrowed, something dark flashing in his gaze. "You really think that little of me?"

- After that, Frank made his stance on mutants crystal clear. There were men—rich, powerful men—who thought they could wipe out mutantkind in silence, who thought they could hunt people like you without consequence. Frank made sure they learned otherwise. When a senator proposed mutant registration, he found his car a smoking ruin. When a high-ranking mutant-hating official disappeared, no one ever found the body.

- Frank didn’t fight for mutant rights in the public eye. He didn’t make speeches, didn’t march in protests. But when someone threatened you, threatened people like you, they disappeared. It wasn’t justice. It was punishment. It was war. And Frank Castle didn’t lose wars.

- But when he was with you, when the blood and the violence faded into the background, Frank was different. He held you close, his touch bruising but gentle, like he was afraid you’d slip through his fingers. "You ain't gotta be scared no more," he murmured against your hair. "Not while I’m breathin’."

- And God help anyone who ever tried to hurt you. Because Frank Castle didn’t believe in mercy.

Bullseye (Lester)

- When you finally told Bullseye, you braced yourself for disgust, for cruelty, for one of his sharp, cutting laughs. But instead, he just blinked at you once, twice—then tilted his head with a smirk. "That’s what you were scared of?" His voice was pure amusement, laced with something darker. "Oh, sweetheart. You should know by now—I don’t give a damn what you are. Long as you bleed like the rest of ‘em."

- And that was it. No anger, no questions, no sympathy. He didn’t treat you like you were fragile. Didn’t tell you that you were special. Bullseye loved destruction, loved chaos, and knowing that you were something the world feared? It only made you more interesting to him.

- But after that, something in him shifted. He took extra pleasure in tearing apart anti-mutant extremists, in carving his own brand of justice into their skin. If someone so much as looked at you wrong, he made sure they never did it again. "Gotta admit," he murmured one night, flicking a bloodstained knife between his fingers. "It’s fun, huntin’ those bastards down. Feels like a goddamn sport."

- But despite his cruelty, despite his madness, there were moments of startling softness. He would run his fingers through your hair absentmindedly, twirl a strand around his finger, murmur against your skin, "You really thought I’d hate you? Sweetheart, I’m not the one who’s ever gonna leave." And that was the most terrifying thing of all—because with Bullseye, love wasn’t gentle. It was obsession.

- He didn’t just accept you. He worshiped you. And in the end, that was the most dangerous thing of all.

Marc Spector (Moon Knight)

- Marc had always known you were hiding something. He saw it in the way your body tensed when people talked about mutants, in the way you flinched when a headline spat venom about the so-called "mutant problem." He had spent his life surrounded by secrets, drowning in them, and he could feel yours pressing against you like a second skin. But he never forced it out of you. Marc knew that secrets weren’t pried open—they were given, piece by piece, when the weight of them became too much to bear.

- When you finally told him, your voice was barely more than a whisper, as if the confession alone might break you. For a long moment, Marc didn’t say anything. He just stared, unreadable, his hands curling into fists at his sides. But then—"That’s it?" His voice was quiet, rough, like gravel scraping against pavement. He shook his head, almost scoffing. "You really thought I’d turn my back on you?" And then, softer, his hand reaching for yours, "I’ve been Khonshu’s blade, a mercenary, a killer. You think being born different is what’s gonna change how I see you?"

- After that, something in Marc burned hotter, fiercer. He had never been one to hold his tongue, but now? Now, he was ruthless. When a politician spewed anti-mutant rhetoric, their life crumbled overnight. When hate groups targeted mutants, they found themselves hunted in the dark, their screams lost to the night. He never let you see the worst of it—never let you know just how far he went. But when you traced the bruises on his knuckles, when you saw the fresh cuts on his skin, you knew.

- "They don’t get to win," he told you one night, his voice low, dangerous. "Not while I’m still breathing." And when you tried to tell him that you were used to it, that it didn’t matter, he caught your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look at him. "It matters to me."

- When the nightmares came, when the weight of it all became too much, Marc held you close, his breath warm against your hair. "I’m not going anywhere," he murmured against your temple. And even when his mind fractured, even when he got lost in the chaos of himself, he always found his way back to you.

Taskmaster (Tony Masters)

- Taskmaster was many things—a killer, a mercenary, a man whose entire life revolved around reading people. And he had read you like an open book the moment he met you. The tension in your shoulders, the hesitation in your voice whenever the topic of mutants came up—he had seen it all, memorized it. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew what you were. But he waited. If you wanted to keep your secret, he wasn’t going to be the one to take it from you.

- But when you finally told him, your voice tight with fear, he just… shrugged. "Yeah. And?" His tone was almost lazy, like it was the most uninteresting thing in the world. When you gaped at him, confusion written all over your face, he only smirked. "Sweetheart, I’ve worked for the worst people you can imagine. You think I care about something like that?" His smirk faded then, his voice turning serious. "You’re mine. That’s all that matters."

- After that, he didn’t just accept it—he weaponized it. If someone so much as looked at you wrong, they didn’t get a second chance. Taskmaster didn’t do morality, didn’t fight for justice. But he did fight for you. And if hurting anti-mutant extremists meant getting a fat paycheck at the same time? Even better.

- He never made speeches, never tried to convince people they were wrong. He just made them pay. When a high-ranking government official pushed for mutant registration, they woke up to find their security detail dead and Taskmaster sitting in their living room, twirling a knife between his fingers. "You’re gonna back off," he told them, voice dangerously calm. "Or I start making this personal." They always backed off.

- But at the end of the day, when it was just the two of you, he was softer in ways he’d never admit. He let you trace the scars on his arms, let you press your forehead against his without a word. "Told ya," he murmured one night, voice almost gentle. "I don’t give a damn what you are. Long as you’re mine."

Johnny Storm (Human Torch)

- Johnny didn’t notice at first. He was too busy being in love with you, too caught up in the way you laughed, the way your eyes shone when you looked at him. But when you finally told him, when the words left your lips like something fragile and breakable, he froze. For the first time in his life, Johnny Storm was speechless.

- And then, after a long, terrible silence, he just—laughed. "Babe," he grinned, pulling you into his arms, "I don’t care if you’re a mutant, an alien, or a wizard. You’re still you. And you’re still the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen." He kissed you then, like the whole world could burn and he wouldn’t care.

- But after that? Oh, he made sure everyone knew exactly where he stood. When people talked about mutants like they were a threat, Johnny cut them off with a sharp, "Oh, so now you’ve got a problem with my girlfriend? Say that again, I dare you." And when someone was dumb enough to throw insults in your direction, Johnny lit up, flames crackling around him. "Wanna say that one more time?" he grinned, voice dripping with dangerous amusement. They never did.

- He used his fame, his charm, his name to shift public opinion. He appeared on talk shows, flashing that easy grin, saying things like, "C’mon, guys, this is ridiculous. Mutants are just people. Get over it." And when protests got violent, when mutant kids were being hunted in the streets, Johnny was there, a burning shield between them and the world.

- But when it was just the two of you, when the flames had cooled, he was nothing but warmth. He pulled you against him, pressing soft kisses to your forehead. "I love you," he whispered into your skin, his voice quiet, serious. "And nothing is ever gonna change that."

Reed Richards (Mister Fantastic)

- When you finally told Reed, his first response was silence. Not because he was shocked, not because he needed time to process—but because he was calculating, rearranging every interaction you had ever shared, analyzing every moment where he had failed to see your fear. You had hidden it well, but now that he knew, the weight of it settled over him like a problem he had failed to solve.

- His hands found yours, his gaze steady. "You should have told me," he said, but there was no accusation in his voice. Only quiet regret. He lifted your fingers to his lips, his touch reverent, as if he could rewrite history with something as simple as love. "You’ve carried this alone for too long." And then, with something firmer, something unshakable: "You never have to again."

- From that moment on, Reed became your shield in ways you never expected. He wrote papers dismantling anti-mutant pseudoscience, tore down bigotry with cold, hard fact. When politicians spoke of mutant registration, he left them grasping for counterarguments they could never find. "You claim mutation is unnatural," he said in one televised debate, eyes sharp. "Tell me, Senator—what part of the human genome would you erase? What percentage of the population do you consider a mistake?" The silence that followed was deafening.

- But beyond the science, beyond the politics, there was Reed as your lover. He spent nights in his lab, creating devices to keep you safe, scanning your DNA not to change you, but to understand you. He memorized the nuances of your abilities, mapped them in ways even you hadn’t. "You are a marvel," he told you once, voice full of awe. And for the first time in your life, you believed it.

- And when you lay beside him in the quiet of the Baxter Building, when he pulled you against him with hands ink-stained from endless notes written in your defense, you realized something else: Reed Richards did not love in halves. He was methodical, relentless, infinite. And now, he was yours.

Ben Grimm (The Thing)

- When you told Ben, his first reaction was a long, slow blink. Then, without hesitation, he reached out and ruffled your hair like it was the most natural thing in the world. "That’s what you were scared of?" His voice was warm, gruff, edged with something heartbreakingly gentle. "C’mon, you really think that changes a damn thing?"

- But as much as he tried to downplay it, the knowledge did change something in him. Not in how he saw you, but in how he saw the world. He had always known what it was to be feared, to be hated for something beyond his control—but this? This was different. He started noticing the way people tensed when they spoke about mutants, the way fear bled into cruelty, the way their hatred was masked as logic. And suddenly, it wasn’t just talk. It was personal.

- When someone made a crack about mutants, Ben didn’t get political. He didn’t debate. He just stood up. Let his shadow stretch long, let his presence settle heavy over the room. "You wanna run that by me again?" he rumbled, voice all gravel and quiet fury. And somehow, they never wanted to.

- But with you, Ben was nothing but soft. He pulled you against his chest, let you rest against the solid warmth of him, held you like you were something fragile in a world that had never been kind. "Yer perfect, y’know that?" he muttered one night, fingers tracing mindless patterns against your skin. And when you tried to protest, to remind him of all the ways the world had told you otherwise, he only huffed. "Nah. They don’t get to decide that. Not about you."

- And so he stayed. Through every sneer, every whispered slur, every fight that came too close to home. He stayed because you were his, and Ben Grimm had never walked away from something he loved.

Susan Storm (Invisible Woman)

- When you finally found the courage to tell Sue, she didn’t gasp, didn’t recoil—she simply reached for you, her hands framing your face with a tenderness that made your breath catch. "Oh, sweetheart," she murmured, brushing her thumbs against your skin. "You must have been so scared."

- And just like that, it was no longer about what you were, but about what the world had done to you. About the weight you had carried alone, about the fear that had burrowed into your bones. And Susan Storm, for all her grace, for all her composure, had never been one to stand by while the world hurt the people she loved.

- She became fierce. Not just in words, but in action. She used her influence, her name, her power to carve out space for mutants where there had been none before. She protected, she fought, she defended. And when the world pushed back, she pushed harder.

- And when the nights were quiet, when it was just the two of you tangled together beneath the covers, she let the walls fall. "You don’t have to be strong all the time," she whispered against your temple. "Not with me."

- And maybe, just maybe, for the first time in your life, you believed her.

Felicia Hardy (Black Cat)

- Felicia’s first reaction was a slow, sharp grin. "Oh, baby," she purred, tracing a finger along your jaw. "Did you really think I’d care?" And then, with a soft chuckle, "I love you. Not whatever label the world wants to slap on you."

- But after that, things changed. Not between you and her—Felicia had always been ride-or-die—but between her and the rest of the world. She started stealing from anti-mutant organizations, draining their bank accounts, erasing their influence. She exposed corrupt politicians, left damning evidence in the hands of journalists who wouldn’t bury the truth. She didn’t just defend you—she made sure they suffered.

- And when someone dared to insult you to her face? Oh, that was a mistake. Felicia was many things—a thief, a liar, a woman who played by her own rules—but she had never been forgiving.

- But when it was just the two of you, when the world fell away, she was something softer. She pulled you close, her touch feather-light, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, "You don’t ever have to hide from me."

- And she meant it. With Felicia, there were no masks, no secrets—just you, raw and real and loved.

Stephen Strange (Doctor Strange)

- You told Stephen in the dead of night, in the hush between flickering candlelight and the whispered hum of ancient spells. The words barely left your lips before you regretted them, before the years of fear coiled around your ribs like iron chains. You had seen the world turn its back on you before—had watched the disgust, the pity, the cold, clinical rejection in the eyes of those who should have loved you. And so, when Stephen only sighed, when he looked at you with something impossibly gentle, it felt like the weight of the universe shifted.

- He did not recoil, did not hesitate. Instead, he reached for you, fingers tracing the lines of your wrist as if following the constellations of your existence. "My love," he murmured, voice steeped in something ancient, something infinite, "I have walked the hidden paths of the multiverse, have spoken with beings older than time itself. Do you truly believe that something as arbitrary as human prejudice could alter the way I see you?"

- After that, Stephen became an immovable force against those who dared to speak against you. His words were blades sharper than any steel, cutting through the ignorance of men who cloaked their hatred in rhetoric. He did not rage—he did not need to. He dismantled their arguments with the ease of a scholar correcting a student, left them floundering in the wake of his intellect. And when words were not enough, when cruelty turned to violence, Stephen stood between you and the world with a shield of eldritch fire.

- He wove spells into the fabric of your existence, sigils of protection hidden in the way his hands lingered on your skin. No force, mortal or divine, could lay a hand upon you without answering to him. He would break reality itself before he allowed harm to come to you. "They will not touch what is mine," he vowed, and the universe itself seemed to bend to his will.

- And yet, in the quiet hours, when the world faded away and it was just the two of you wrapped in the sanctuary of the Sanctum, he was simply Stephen. He kissed away your fears with the patience of a man who had once lost everything, who knew what it meant to find something worth keeping. "You are not cursed," he told you one night, his voice woven with something that felt like devotion. "You are celestial." And in his arms, you could finally believe it.

Namor (The Sub-Mariner)

- The weight of your secret had always been heavier in his presence. Namor was not a man accustomed to softness, not a man who bent to the whims of others. His love was a tempest, fierce and unrelenting, and you had never known if that storm would hold you or tear you apart. But when you finally told him, when the truth finally slipped past your lips like a confession carved in blood, the air between you went still.

- He did not speak for a long moment. His gaze was unreadable, sharp as a blade honed for war. And then—"You feared I would turn from you?" His voice was quiet, but there was something dangerous lurking beneath it, something ancient and offended. "You feared Namor, King of Atlantis, would forsake his beloved for being what she has always been?" His hand found your chin, tilting your face up toward him, his expression dark with something that looked like fury—not at you, but at the world that had made you believe he could be so small.

- The moment passed, and then his lips were on yours, fierce and possessive, a declaration written in salt and fire. "You are mine," he murmured against your mouth. "Let them speak against you, if they dare. I will drown their cities in ruin before I let them lay a hand upon you." And you knew, with every inch of your soul, that he meant it.

- After that, Namor made no secret of where he stood. When leaders of the surface world spoke of mutants as a threat, they found themselves facing the cold fury of a king who had toppled empires. "Your hatred is as weak as the land you stand upon," he sneered at them, voice like a blade slicing through their feeble protests. "And just as easily shattered." His presence alone sent waves of terror through the political landscape—because an enemy of mutants was now an enemy of Atlantis.

- But beneath all the fire, beneath the war cries and the kingdom that bowed to his will, there was Namor, the man who held you like the most precious thing in the ocean’s depths. "You are of the sea now," he told you once, his voice quieter, reverent. "No one—no thing—will ever take you from me." And when you lay beside him in the deep silence of his kingdom, you knew that, for the first time, you were not alone.

Johnny Blaze (Ghost Rider)

- You had seen the fire in Johnny’s eyes, had traced the inferno that lived in his veins. And yet, when you told him—when you finally let the weight of your truth spill from your lips—you expected him to burn you with it. You expected the same rejection you had spent your life swallowing, expected the words that had been carved into your skin since childhood: monster, mistake, unwanted.

- But Johnny only exhaled, running a scarred hand through his hair before looking at you with something impossibly tender. "That’s what you were scared of?" He let out a breathless, almost disbelieving laugh, before reaching for you, pulling you against him with a gentleness that contradicted the hellfire in his soul. "Sweetheart, I sold my goddamn soul to the devil. You think I got room to judge anybody?"

- And that was it. No questions, no hesitations—just love, steady and unshaken. But the world was not so kind, and Johnny saw it. Saw the way they looked at you, the way their hatred curled like poison in the air. And something dark stirred in him, something ancient and vengeful. The Rider did not abide by human morality, did not hesitate to pass judgment. And when Johnny let him loose, when the skull and chains and fire consumed him, the wicked burned.

- "You wanna know what real monsters look like?" he snarled at those who spat hatred at you. "Take a good, long look." And then the fire came, and the screams followed. The guilty never walked away the same. Some never walked away at all.

- But when the flames died, when the smoke settled, it was just Johnny again. Just the man who traced circles against your back, who kissed your knuckles like a silent vow. "Ain’t nothin’ in this world that could make me love you less," he murmured against your skin. "You hear me? Nothin’." And for once, in a world that had never made space for you, you believed it.

Eddie Brock / Venom

- You expected the worst. Eddie had always been a man of absolutes, of raw emotion barely restrained beneath the surface. And Venom? The symbiote was a creature of instinct, unpredictable and feral. You had spent days, weeks, months dreading the moment—wondering if love would turn to disgust, if loyalty would be drowned beneath the tide of prejudice you had known your whole life.

- But when the words finally left your lips, when you admitted what you were with a voice tight and brittle, Eddie just stared. Not with anger. Not with fear. Just silence, long and unreadable. And then—"That’s what had you so freaked out?" His voice was almost bored, like you had just confessed something as mundane as forgetting to lock the door. Venom slithered over his shoulder then, black tendrils shifting, its alien voice a deep, guttural purr. "WE ARE NOT AFRAID," it growled. "WE LOVE YOU."

- And that was that. Eddie never treated you differently. There were no long speeches, no reassurances—you didn’t need them. You were his. That was the only thing that mattered. But the world? The world didn’t see it that way. And Eddie, for all his temper, had never cared much for the opinions of cowards. "You wanna talk to me about monsters?" he snarled at a reporter who dared to spew anti-mutant rhetoric. "You think you know what ‘dangerous’ looks like? Let me introduce you." And then the symbiote spread its maw, teeth glinting, hunger rising. The fear in their eyes was enough.

- Venom became your guardian, your shadow, your monster in the dark. When the bigots came, they never came twice. "They are WEAK," the symbiote cooed in your ear. "THEY WILL NOT TOUCH YOU." And Eddie, for all his gruffness, only pulled you against his chest, arms solid and safe. "They gotta go through me first," he muttered. And no one—no one—was getting through him.

- But in the quiet moments, when the world wasn’t looking, he was just Eddie. Just a man who held you like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to humanity. "You think I’m the normal one in this relationship?" he joked one night, pressing a kiss against your forehead. "Sweetheart, you’re the best damn thing that ever happened to me." And maybe, just maybe, you could finally believe it.

T’Challa (Black Panther)

- You had spent your life preparing for rejection, bracing for the moment love turned to loss. You had seen kings pass judgment on your kind before—had heard their decrees of condemnation, their insistence that you were too different, too dangerous. And T’Challa—T’Challa—was a king before anything else.

- But when you finally told him, when you spoke your truth in the sanctuary of his chambers, his expression did not waver. He watched you with the patience of a man who had already known the answer, as if he had long suspected the secret you carried. "I see," he murmured, his voice like the softest roll of thunder. And then, after a long pause, he took your hands in his, his grip steady, unshaken. "You are afraid I will turn from you?" He exhaled slowly, as if the thought alone was offensive. "Beloved, you insult me."

- It was not pity in his gaze—it was understanding. Wakanda had spent centuries fighting against the world’s judgment, against the fear and greed that sought to tear it apart. He had felt the weight of being seen as other, as a threat. And so, his response was not outrage, not shock, but something far more powerful. Acceptance.

- And the world listened. When leaders spoke of mutant registration, of control, of suppression, they found their words met with the unwavering will of the Black Panther. "Wakanda will not stand with cowards," he declared, his voice carrying across the United Nations floor like the strike of a war drum. "You speak of protecting humanity, yet you wield fear as a weapon. We have seen this before. We have lived it. And we will not allow history to repeat itself."

- But when it was just the two of you, when the weight of kingship faded and it was simply T’Challa, he was nothing but gentle. He pulled you close, his lips tracing the curve of your shoulder, his voice a low, steady murmur. "You are my heart," he whispered against your skin. "And my heart does not fear."

Elektra Natchios

- Elektra had always been a blade honed to perfection—silent, deadly, unforgiving. You had never known if her love was something sharp or something soft, had never been certain if you were an exception or just another inevitable loss waiting to happen. And so, when you told her, when you let your secret slip between breaths, you braced yourself for the cut.

- But Elektra did not flinch. Did not look at you with fear, or pity, or hesitation. Instead, she tilted her head, assessing you with the same cold precision she reserved for the battlefield. And then, after a long, heavy silence, she smirked. "You thought I would care?" she mused, her voice like silk over steel. "Darling, I’ve murdered kings. I’ve torn empires apart with my own hands. Do you think something as small as genetics could change how I see you?"

- After that, she became merciless with those who sought to harm you. The Hand, the government, the cowards who whispered venom against mutants—none of them were safe. When a senator proposed a bill to restrict mutant rights, he disappeared. When a crime syndicate funneled money into anti-mutant propaganda, their bodies were found in the river, their throats slit with precision. Elektra did not argue with bigots. She ended them.

- But in the quiet, when the blood was washed from her hands, she was something else. She traced the line of your jaw with a touch that was almost reverent, as if memorizing the shape of you. "They will never touch you," she promised one night, her voice a whisper against your lips. "Not while I still breathe." And you knew, with bone-deep certainty, that she meant it.

- Because Elektra’s love was not gentle. It was not tender. It was a promise carved in blood and steel. And it was yours.

Muse

- Telling Muse was like spilling ink into water—unpredictable, shifting, impossible to contain. He stared at you for a long moment, his head tilting in that unnatural way of his, as if dissecting your words, peeling them apart layer by layer. And then, he laughed. Not cruelly. Not mockingly. But with something like delight.

- "You think I would care?" he mused, his voice thick with amusement, with something almost manic. "Darling, normal is boring." He leaned closer then, his breath warm against your ear. "But you? You’re art."

- After that, the world became a canvas. The walls of Hell’s Kitchen bled with murals of your face, with paintings that whispered of something divine. He did not defend you with words—he did not care for words. Instead, he let the city see you the way he saw you. Mutant? Human? It didn’t matter. You were beautiful.

- And when someone dared to insult you, when they let their fear curl into something ugly, Muse did not argue. He simply disappeared for a night. And when he returned, there was red on his hands, on his lips, staining his teeth like war paint.

- But in the quiet, when the madness faded, he was just Muse. Just the man who traced shapes into your skin, who whispered things that made your breath catch. "You are my greatest masterpiece," he murmured, his fingers ghosting over your pulse. And you knew, with absolute certainty, that he meant it.

Victor von Doom (Dr. Doom)

- You told him in a whisper, in the shadowed halls of Latveria’s castle, your voice barely more than a breath. Doom had never been a man to suffer surprises, and you knew—knew—how he viewed the world. His vision was absolute, his standards uncompromising. You had braced yourself for fury, for cold dismissal, for a sharp-edged rejection that would carve itself into your bones. But when the words left your lips, Victor merely turned his head, his green cloak billowing behind him as he regarded you in silence.

- His mask gave away nothing, but his voice, when he finally spoke, was steady. "You believe Doom would be swayed by such trivialities?" There was no outrage. No scorn. Only the weight of certainty. "You are mine. That has not changed." And just like that, your fear seemed foolish. Doom had never cared for the prejudices of lesser men—why would he start now?

- But what did change was how the world suffered for its ignorance. The moment the anti-mutant hysteria reached Latveria’s borders, it was met with swift, merciless retribution. "Mutants are under my protection," he declared, standing before the United Nations, his voice like the strike of a hammer. "Those who threaten them threaten Doom. And Doom does not forgive." Countries that passed anti-mutant laws found their infrastructure failing overnight, their leaders waking to nightmares of iron gauntlets closing around their throats.

- Doom did not merely defend you—he reshaped reality itself to ensure that no hand dared rise against you again. When a coalition of world leaders tried to enforce mutant registration, their satellites fell from the sky, their wealth turned to ash. "They will learn," he murmured, his fingers ghosting over your cheek, "or they will burn."

- But in the quiet, when the weight of sovereignty slipped from his shoulders, Victor held you differently. He traced the line of your jaw with ungloved hands, his voice no longer the decree of a ruler, but the murmur of a man. "You are beyond them," he told you one night, his lips ghosting over yours. "And Doom does not bow to the small-minded."

Peter Quill (Star-Lord)

- The moment the words left your mouth, Peter blinked, his brows furrowing like he had misheard you. "Wait—hold up. That’s what’s been eating you?" He let out a breathless, incredulous laugh, raking a hand through his hair. "Babe, I thought you were gonna tell me you had, like, a killer ex or some galactic bounty on your head."

- He took your hands then, squeezing them with the kind of reckless, unwavering devotion that only Peter Quill could offer. "I don’t care about that mutant stuff, okay? You’re you. That’s what matters." And just like that, the weight on your chest vanished. Because Peter—sweet, ridiculous, infuriating Peter—had never cared about things like labels. You were his. That was the only thing that mattered.

- But when the galaxy did care, when the whispers of mutant hatred spread beyond Earth, Peter changed. Gone was the easygoing smuggler, the charming rogue. In his place was the son of a warlord, a man who had seen entire planets fall to fear. "You wanna go after mutants?" he snarled at a Kree ambassador who dared to suggest mutant containment. "Lemme tell you something, pal—mutants don’t need protecting from people like you. You need protecting from them."

- The Guardians became your fiercest defenders. Rocket rigged explosives to anti-mutant ships, Drax openly challenged bigots to duels (none survived), and Gamora—gods, Gamora—made sure that the universe learned a very simple lesson: you do not come for what belongs to the Guardians of the Galaxy.

- But when it was just you and Peter, when the weight of the cosmos faded, he was still the same dork who danced with you in the cockpit, who pressed forehead kisses against your skin, who whispered, "You’re my favorite person in the whole galaxy." And you believed him.

Richard Rider (Nova)

- Rich had always been a man caught between two worlds—human and cosmic, soldier and survivor. You knew, deep down, that he understood what it was to be other, to be shaped by forces beyond his control. And yet, when you finally told him the truth, you still braced for the worst.

- He just stared at you. Not in shock. Not in horror. Just… processing. And then, after what felt like eternity, he exhaled and scrubbed a hand over his face. "Jesus, babe, I thought you were gonna tell me something bad." He let out a shaky laugh, shaking his head. "I don’t give a damn about that. You think being a mutant makes you different? I’ve been half-space-god since I was a teenager. You’re nothing compared to the weird crap I’ve seen."

- But when Earth made it clear that it did care, when mutants were hunted and vilified, Rich stepped up. Hard. The Nova Corps had always been neutral, but Rich? Rich was not. He tore through fleets of Sentinels, shut down space stations funding anti-mutant research, and made sure the Shi’ar never forgot what happened when they overstepped. "Mutants are under my protection," he declared, his voice carrying through the void. "Come for them, and you answer to Nova Prime."

- And when the anti-mutant rhetoric reached Earth, when humans whispered about control and containment, Rich snapped. "You people don’t get it, do you?" he spat during a live broadcast, his helmet in his hands, his blue eyes furious. "The universe is full of things that would eat you alive. And you’re wasting your time fighting mutants? Jesus Christ, you people never learn."

- But when it was just you and him, when the war was distant and the stars were quiet, he pulled you into his arms and pressed a lingering kiss against your temple. "You’re my whole damn universe," he murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion, with love. "And I’m never letting anything happen to you."

[breckstonevailskier]

I dunno, I think the deaths were appropriate for the Illuminati. 😂 I mean, they had no qualms about murdering their Stephen Strange instead of helping him (sidenote, what the Illuminati did then would be like if the other Avengers in Infinity War chose to kill Vision rather than try to keep him alive). 🤨

And at least in the comics, the Illuminati are meant to be a lesson in hubris, which is very much on display with them. Too bad that I doubt Michael Waldron gets that.

Multiverse of Madness was great but I’m never going to get over how quickly the Earth 838 Illuminati got taken out by Wanda! Which doesn’t really make any sense if they were able to take out Thanos and their Stephen Strange after he used the darkhold so easily! Michael Waldron should never had made so over powered!

[gremlins-hotel]

From the notes of Capt. Alfred Jones: "Davie was a bus and the 'Flying Fortress' moniker seemed to pass her by, but it was a ship with a brave crew. The trudge of getting back to England from enemy territory is a story for another day. I miss her and sometimes I miss the boys we lost that day."

-✪- -✪- -✪-

B-17F "Dear Davie": *U.S. Army Model B-17F-65-BO Air Corps Serial No. 42-29670 Delivered Cheyenne 31/1/43; Pueblo 18/2/43; Salina 15/2/43; Brookley 19/3/43; Smoky Hill 23/3/43; Dow Field 18/4/43. Assigned to the 333rd Bomb Squadron/94th Bomb Group [TS-L] "DEAR DAVIE" 22/4/43; Missing in Action near Hamburg 25/7/43 with Alfred "Comet" Jones, **Co-Pilot: Daryl "Speed" Reed, Navigator: Richard Reed, Bombardier: Charlie Marstaller; Radio Operator: Johnathan Graves, Flight Engineer/Top Turret Gunner: Clyde "Pepsi" Ray, Ball Turret Gunner: William Ortlieb, Waist Gunner: Leslie Lipsey, Waist Gunner: Paul Rapoport, Tail Gunner: Thomas Pugh (6 Killed in Action); "DEAR DAVIE" lost to flak/anti-aircraft fire, crashing near Uetersen, 15 miles NW of Hamburg, Germany.

-✪- -✪- -✪-

[nerd things & acknowledgements below cut]

Notes on the B-17F... The B-17F was an upgrade of the previous E model, with several notable changes: A one- or two-piece plexiglas nose cone, as opposed to the ten-paneled cone of previous versions. Reinforced landing gear allowed for a greater maximum payload, from 4,200 lb (1,900 kg) of ordnance to 8,000 lb (3,600 kg). Flight and combat range of the F model was improved by 900 mi (1,400 km) with the addition of nine self-sealing rubber fuel cells in the wing root, aka, "Tokyo tanks". The F model was generally characterized by being tail-heavy - which lead to part failure - and woefully undefended from the front; the early F models had no front-facing armament, leaving a 60° blind spot to the direct front of the aircraft - a flaw which was exploited by German pilots, who held air superiority. Later F models would see a list of possible available modifications (factory and field) such as inserting two .50 caliber machine guns into the nose cone to solve the blind spot. Other modifications to later F models were bulged cheek turrets, as opposed to the window-mounted guns of earlier iterations, and the available addition of the iconic "Bendix" chin turret. The chin turret is far more common on the subsequent G "gunship" variant. ("Dear Davie" is an early F model without the nose mount, bulged cheeks, or chin turret.)

*This model production block, serial no., and fate are borrowed from real-life B-17F #42-29670, "Thundermug." "Thundermug" was an aircraft that originally served in the 333rd Bomb Squadron/94th Bomb Group alongside my great-grandfather and his usual steed, "The Gremlins Hotel." It was transferred to the 544th BS/384th BG, at which point it went Missing in Action over Hamburg from flak/aa-fire; 8 of its crew became POWs while 2 were KIA. I have had the honor to speak to descendants of both of its crews and help them research "Thundermug"; I wish to voice a mere glimpse of their stories in a unique way.

**All names of Alfred's crew are either cobbled-together family names throughout our history here or entirely fictitious - though some were inspired by real people whom I grew up with stories of. All inspirations were individuals that lived good lives post-war.

[avengerphobic]

did the avengers even do anything about orchis? they were killing mutants but the avengers don't even give a shit

🏃🏿‍♂️3dmanofficial Follow

am i joke to you

134 notes

🏺greencianurn 🔁 pro-bono-boner

☢️chulkstan Follow

FYI Amadeus is really uncomfortable with yall writing amadeus/herc fics. Cut that shit out

🏺greencianurn Follow

lmao im not gonna stop #why is he even searching it up

1,568 notes

❄️lunasnowed Follow

i cant believe people are still circulating those pictures of brawn and luna kissing #i dont get why people ship them #luna just seems so much like a lesbian #honestly could have been a publicity stunt

14 notes

🕷️spidermarvel 🔁 tony-fucked-that-old-man

anonymous asked: I write fanfic of my friends (we're superheroes). Anyway i found my friends fanfiction of us and confronted him about it, and he said it was weird that I was reading fanfiction about us. And i was like well its weird that you're writing fanfiction about us. he called me a hypocrite. And I got mad and yelled at him and told him I didn't like that he wrote fanfiction where we got together and that it was even weirder that he wrote it so that it was a love triangle with our other friend. He's not speaking to me rn. I feel bad because it is hypocritical of me to be mad. But I feel like writing self-ship is different than shipping your friends. idk....

⚖️aita-polls Follow

#did msmarvel send this in lol

6,594 notes

⚔️blackknightofficial

actually really hurt that theres hardly any rpf of me #there should at least be a couple of fics of me getting down and dirty during the crusades

🤖robotomato 🔁 cap4cap

🌟cap4cap

people are weird why ship a guy with a dude who tries to kill him like every other week

#dont get the appeal especially when he has a best friend and wife?

7 notes

🚀illegalrocketship

I saw one of my mutuals vaguing me for shipping dr doom and reed richards. Girl have you seen the way victor looks at him? I have eyes and a heart #villian/hero antis are such losers

4 notes

🌟cap4cap

I DO NOT SHIP SAM WILSON AND STEVE ROGERS I SHIP MONICA RAMBEAU/STEVE ROGERS...... STEVE ROGERS IS NOT GAY #can you people leave me aloneeeee #ive been shipping captain marvel and captain America since before most of yall have been alive

3 notes

👨🏻‍🦲mrcleansgaybrother🔁yougottapinata

☄️mutantmeanace Follow

so we're all in agreement that professor x and magneto fucked right

🪅yougottapinata Follow

dont be fucking weird magneto dropped a car through my house??

👨🏻‍🦲mrcleansgaybrother

yeah and he fucked professor x

153 notes

🇨🇦 alphadflight 🔁 northstarofficial

anonymous asked: Is it okay to ship you with Iceman even though you're married

💫northstarofficial Follow

Uh, so I'm not the superhero Northstar. I am a roleplay account for the North Star. Like in the Sky. But Sure you can ship me with Iceman #adjalkfjaajkfd

1,567 notes

anonymous asked: Not you shipping Bucky and Steve Rogers even tho steve met bucky when he was literally a child

🦥slothbaby

I DIDNT KNOW 😭 #i should have looked it up i know but it just never occurred to me #because its such a widespread ship

19 notes

👨🏻‍🦲mrcleansgaybrother

i want to shine professor x's bald head #id let him run me over with his wheelchair ugh

12 notes

🇺🇸 usgaygent

did yall see how sad us agent looked looking at hawkeye in this video. he wants him so bad..... #hawkagent #us agent #hawkeye #clint barton #the way being us agent is a performance for him #and the government doesnt let him act on his feelings #so he just has to burn with desire

1 note

🪩discodomino

why isnt there one million fics about them 😭😭😭 #UGH WHYYYY

15 notes

⛈️stormscloud

the way yall ship dazzler with every woman she so much as looks at is so annoying no wonder she's locked in the fucking closet yall wont stop speculating about who she has fucked #i hate rpf fans

4 notes

🌞wondermaynnnn

do yall think hank beast and wonder man have explored each others bodies

10 notes

[bludstein]

As someone who is against censorship, I can't take Marvel antis seriously because... out of all medias in the world, they choose to be an anti who is a fan of Marvel??

You know that same Marvel who pass around their heroes like volleyball? Marvel who made their love interests broken up, cheated, or fridged? Marvel who made self-inserts to ship themselves with canonically paired characters? Marvel who made a canon AU where Steve married female Tony Stark? Marvel who made evil AUs? Marvel who made an AU where Reed Richards married Human Torch? What about Earth 1610 in general?

Be for real right now. If the writers can do it, so does fans. The difference is that one get paycheck out of it, the other doesn't.

(Speaking of Marvel, I just want to say that I can't take Steve Rogers/Natasha Stark fic seriously when he treated her like he treated regular Tony Stark because there will DEFINITELY be difference in treatment.

"Natasha Stark is just female Tony Stark, Steve wouldn't treat her differently—" if that's the case then why would Civil War literally not happen in that one timeline? I mean, come on. Steve was a sickly artist who lived through 1950s and you think he won't behave himself, not call her ma'am like she's his boss?)

[co-mixed]

Secret Wars: Why Reed Didn’t Win

Disclaimer: This post is 100% anti-Reed propaganda and may or may not be sponsored by Latverian government.

Secret Wars is probably the most ambitious event in the Marvel Universe. Building the multiverse and the Ultimate for 15 years only to collapse it all, that’s a huge deal. And of course, Jonathan Hickman was there to see it through. With his tendency to rewrite the whole world order, we get a whole bucket of new mythology, and let me tell you, when it was first coming out, it wasn’t easy to keep all the new info in your head. Now though, that everything is released and cataloged, it’s just a matter of a free week. 

So we start...

We actually start with the Fantastic Four, Avengers, and New Avengers. Those are the three “homework” reads that you need to go through to fully dive into the Battleworld and its origin. New Avengers is the more important one here since it’s tied directly to the events of Secret Wars. And that’s really the one that I wanna focus on, cause… RICHARDS. 

This infuriating man is a part of the Illuminati (you’ve heard of them), and they reassemble in the face of a collision. Nay, multiple collisions with other worlds. As per habit, they choose to cover it all up and pretend that they know everything better than anyone else and get to make the calls. This was a collective work of Charles (with Beast taking over later), Strange, Stark, T’Challa, Namor, and Reed. Of course the whole ordeal stinks of Richards and Stark. It’s not the first rodeo for either and don’t for a second think that they act any differently than they have all the times before. 

The solution that this intellectual elite comes up with is what they call “the unthinkable”. Makes it easier to think about it (but not to do it). To save their world, they have to kill every world (meaning the universe) that 616 is about to collide with. We care very little for a random Earth-5786 or Earth-515151 so what’s the problem? Besides, most of the universes were already dead. But there comes a moment when 616 is about to collide with a healthy world where a group of heroes is fighting tooth and nail for survival.

As good storytelling demands, we get to know them before seeing them die. But that’s not even the point. There was a superhero fight, Strange pulled a rabbit out of a hat, but ultimately, the question stood of whether to kill that universe or await the end of 616. And no one could pull the trigger. T’Challa came up to the plate and said hell nah, Richards backed out (because someone else has to save his family, apparently), everyone refused to do it, except Namor. 

Which, sure, you can say he’s evil (and even list one by one all of his shady deeds), but if he hadn’t done it then, there would be no world to save. There would be no raft or Battleworld. Everyone would be dead (on both Earths). But that doesn’t sit well with heroes’ egos. Not with the way they see themselves, they all want to believe that the heroic sacrifice is better than the burden of knowing that you did the best you could under circumstances. 

They all question Namor and really, thank Doom (what, too soon?) Namor was arrogant enough to be able to justify his actions and even walk away. Even alive.

What’s Namor up to 

Namor goes to all the baddies, including Doom, and asks for help. Because it takes a villain to do the unthinkable. You know why? Because heroes don’t want to get their hands dirty. And in the year of our Doom 2025, we know well enough that you can’t remain clean if you want to get anywhere. But the Illuminati, for all their talk, are not just looking for an intellectual and classy solution. They know there isn’t one. So they are keeping themselves busy, trying to outsmart each other and trick the rest into doing the hard part. That’s not what all heroes would do, no. Some would die trying to save everyone, some would save who they can, but these… these guys were trying to save their conscience. And they did, while Namor was getting his hands very dirty alongside Thanos, his Cull Obsidian, and Black Swan (who turned out to be just a Doom cultist, go figure). 

Namor sent Thanos to clear every Earth that was on a collision course until there were only two left. We do care for the Ultimate Earth. 

Doom had other plans

Wouldn’t be fair to say that Doom orchestrated the whole shebang. Doom would probably say so, but we don’t have to believe them. Besides, we know that there was a grand design behind it all. And it included eventual destruction of all that is… was. Of all. Doom merely sped up the process and attempted to control it, which is really not a bad thing to do. It’s the same approach the Illuminati used only much more complex, layered, and clever. Don’t ever say Doom is stupider than Richards. 

Doom did save the world, parts of every world in fact. He did what never even occurred to anyone else. All the Illuminati wanted was to save their hides. Or die in a blaze of glory and live forever as heroes of the multiverse. Because if you’re a skeptic and you really peel layers of care for other people, wanting to save what everyone loves, standing for everything good against everything bad… When you take it all away, there is just saving yourself and all that you love. It just happens to be in this world. 

That’s why they kicked out Cap, that’s why he hunted them down. 

Back to Doom though, we want to give him a hard time for taking on the role of god. We probably even want to praise Strange for not doing it. But we can only really imagine what world would it be with Strange at its helm. Strange, or anyone else acting in anonymity under seven stamps of secrecy. 

The world Doom built was not ideal. Wasn’t even good, I mean, he made sure all his enemies were busy fighting for their lives. He even gave them all targets to aim their heroism at. There was always injustice, there was always someone or something to fight. What he didn’t take into account was villains. He gave them thrones but not a single one of them ever stopped eyeing his throne with envy. That’s villains for you, that’s why their Sinister Sixes and Frightful Fours never work out. It’s always a backstabbing festival, and Doom being god doesn’t change that. 

Not a single Richards in sight 

Doom hates Reed, which makes it hard to hate Doom. But for the most part, Reeds took care of themselves with their cursed council. So was it shocking that there were no Reeds anywhere? Not so much. It was actually a pleasant change. Doom did save Reed’s family though, the family Reed lost during malfunction on the raft. The family he claims he was ready to sacrifice worlds for.

I mean his raft was a great cover to pack all his family and a couple of extra bodies, and head for the hills to “preserve the human race” (didn’t even consider mutants or Skrulls — Reed hates Skrulls). He would’ve gotten on the raft himself (hello, genius!), would’ve packed Val there (again, genius), Franklin can remake worlds so that’s handy, and Sue… well, someone needs to cook for all the great minds? Okay, he was planning to stick her, Ben, and maybe Johnny as security crew. That was the great plan when he failed to save everyone. How is that any better than Nu-Earth, Reed? How are you any better? 

Again, he failed. And everything he did after when Battleworld started falling apart, was merely piggybacking on the idea Doom had with his far more vast resources (his son. Yes, he used his child as a world maker). And it wasn’t even all his idea. Really, he should’ve come to Valeria in the first place instead of running around hiding in secret societies. 

Reed didn’t win, he wasn’t a hero. He was just second. He got the time he needed to tackle the issue, he got what Namor and Doom both gave him. He failed. 

[aamy2100982]

what comic would be the best to start reading venom comics? (as a newcomer to reading comics in general)

It's been DAYS since you put this in my inbox, sorry I didn't answered sooner. I think I once said that I don't consider myself the right person to recommend comics because I myself started this journey without knowing anything and starting with the whole 2018 event that turned Eddie into a god and whatever. BUT! I can give you a path to where Venom comics start so you don't have to search through all the mess.

If you want to know some lore, you have to keep in mind that Venom started out as a villain and the symbiote was introduced long before Eddie. And I don't recommend reading by date necessarily, because you're going to swallow the thousand and one Spiderman comics from the 60s to the 90s when Venom finally became independent as a character.

So you can know that the first appearance of the symbiote was in:

MARVEL SUPER HEROES SECRET WARS (1984) issue #8

Spiderman's entire journey with the symbiote lasts from

THE AMAZING SPIDER-MAN (1963) issue #252 to #258

Spiderman has two suits, a cloth one and the symbiote, just in case you ever see a cover of Spiderman wearing the black suit but then notice it's not really the symbiote. It's like only 6 issues.

Which is funny, because Peter sometimes washed the symbiote like it was clothes without knowing xd

After being separated from Peter, we don't see the symbiote until much later. in the epilogue of:

FANTASTIC FOUR (1961) issue #274

In which the symbiote escapes from Reed Richards' lab

and we don't see it again until:

WEB OF SPIDER-MAN (1985)

Where they try to join Peter again and we see the iconic scene where Spiderman takes off the symbiote with the help of the church bells

Interestingly, this only happens in the first issue and then the symbiote is not relevant until...

THE AMAZING SPIDER-MAN (1963) ISSUE #299

Where at the end of the pages we are introduced for the first time to the infamous VENOM!

And this is where the important part comes in:

The whole issue #300 is totally dedicated to them, very important, because I think it sets out what the character was like from the beginning

And here we can stop spewing lore and talk about some comics that are just plain fun

If you want to read about Venom in their Villain stage I can honestly only tell you that it's a short story

There are many, so I'm going to put only the ones that are in THE AMAZING SPIDER-MAN (1963)

As his notable threat to Peter's life

#315 - #317

#332 - #333

#346 - #347

The Birth of Carnage

#361 - #363

And finally

#374 - #375

Where Venom and Spiderman make a peace pact and Venom officially becomes an anti-hero.

About his anti-hero phase, I think the most important thing is to start with the

Lethal Protector from 1993

There is also Venom: Pyre Funeral, crossover with Punicher

Venom: The Enemy Within, crossover with MorbiusVenom: The Enemy Within (1994)

There are several others like The Hunger or The Madness but my main problem with the 90's is that they have very dark and edgy writing which can be confusing at times xd

So you can also read the Lethal Protectors of 2022 and 2023, which are less heavy and are written, in fact, by one of the co-creators of Venom, so the essence of the character is not lost.

There's a lot more to it, but I think that's all I can say to make it less of a drag, especially if you're just starting out with comics. It was a pain for me too and I spent more time on this than you think

Again, sorry for the delay, at this point you've probably already asked someone else xd

[keepsmagnetoaway]

Marvel Team-Up 100 (December 1980)

Chris Claremont/Frank Miller & John Byrne

We've read a fair few issues of the long-running Marvel Team-Up and it's always an interesting time: now, for its 100th issue, we have the treat of it featuring X-Men (or, at least, X-Men-related characters) in both its main story and its back-up, both of which are striking and important stories.

In the first of them, the featured team-up is actually Spider-Man (yay!) and the Fantastic Four (boo!), but the story also introduces the silhouetted figure you can see here, initially seemingly as a villain.

If you're thinking "fuck, these layouts are good," then you're right: it's Frank Fucking Miller! We don't have time for Miller Discourse - I will literally never have time for Miller Discourse - but Miller here was at the beginning of his imperial phase, having just started drawind Daredevil and being on the point of taking over writing on it too, and his distinctively moody take on New York City is on display in this issue. This nightmare Deco tower, at a wildly expressionist angle, is purest Miller.

Anyway, I'm skipping over most of the action here because it's Reed Richards bullshit and I hate it, but I do want to talk about that mysterious new character: it's Karma, and she's got Issues.

A beautiful panel filled with politics: that's good comics, baby. It's important to say that there is also a fair amount of tone-deaf stuff about Asians in this issue - Karma's wider family feature and they're not exactly subtly depicted, especially the villainous members, who include Karma's evil twin brother.

And yet...this is 1980, the Vietnam War is a recent memory in the US, and along comes a complex, traumatized Vietnamese character, who evolves from villain to anti-hero to something like a full-on hero in the space of this single comic when - in a moment that's genuinely shocking, coming as it does in the middle of a fight in which Peter Parker and Ben Grimm seem to be competing to make the most wise-cracks - she kills and psychically absorbs her brother. This, I repeat, is our introduction to this character, her very first issue. Fucking hell.

And that's Karma! The story ends just after this, with her tentatively established as some kind of hero, but the reader is none the wiser about what's coming next for her: which was, as you probably know, an integration into the X-Men world and a gradual emergence as one of the most interesting and popular characters of that world (helped by the fact that she also eventually turns out to be gay, hell yeah). It's a hell of an introduction and a fascinatingly political story about the shadow of American imperialism, and it's then followed by this issue's back-up story, which is also powerfully political.

This is a Claremont/Byrne story, a little chaser after our farewell to him in the main book, and (despite the team behind it...) it's about Blackness. It's The One Where Storm and Black Panther Meet, And Also Apartheid South Africa Tries To Kill Ororo.

It's actually largely told, after the initial sequence, in a flashback to their first meeting, and I have tried and failed to work out how it's supposed to fit in with the backstory also depicted in the 2006 Storm series - I don't think they exactly line up, but the 2006 series does sort of reference and expand on this story, in particular by reusing Andreas 'The Bull' de Ruyter, the enjoyably repulsive Afrikaner villain.

In the present, it turns out, de Ruyter is still trying to kill them, and they get to defeat him all over again, and part ways in a bittersweet, ship-teasy moment (again, no idea how this fits into subsequent canon with them getting married and so forth, but, who cares).

This is a really remarkable issue, all told, and though it's all created by white men, and as ever there are some, shall we say, heavy-handed moments, but its use nevertheless of a Vietnamese heroine, her life ruined by American warfare, and of two Black heroes fighting an explicitly apartheid-supporting villain is pretty striking: on top of which, the art is outstanding. Great stuff! This is also the start of a run of half a dozen guest appearances and the like from this era that we're about to read, so let's hope the rest of them are this interesting.