#infinity war snap

[incorrect-marvel-because-why-not]

Steve when he gets Bucky back: Realistic version

[reallyunluckyrunaway]

[holyblanchett]

Jac really woke up this morning and said lesbian rights and I have so much respect for her. Thanos stans are so salty in the comments and I live for that.

[doubledudeski]

ever think about how they both tossed a loved one off a cliff to gain power

[bronzemettle]

Billy Batson and Carol Danvers both go by Captain Marvel at one point or another. Does Batson end up deferring to Danvers and going by Shazam instead, or does Danvers take up one of her dozens of old monikers? If Batson goes by Shazam, how does he introduce himself without getting zapped back into Billy form?

Billy's never gone by Shazam in the BronzeRealms. For real, how does that even work? DC does stupid shit sometimes and we all know it.

Okay, with that out of the way let's do a timeline of the name "Captain Marvel" across heroes.

In 1940, the Justice Society of America are fighting off an attempted Kree invasion when they meet and are assisted by a mysterious man who calls himself Captain Marvel, who disappears soon afterwards.

Seeing him in action also seeds thoughts of rebellious inspiration in the mind of a young Kree soldier, who takes on the callsign Mar-Vell when he's promoted to Captain after the failure of his superiors.

In 1967, Mar-Vell goes rogue from the Kree and decides to hide out on earth, seeking out the surviving Justice Society. With their help, she transitions and starts a new identity under the name Wendy Lawson, and debuts shortly later as the superhero Captain Marvel.

In 1977, Lawson retires as Captain Marvel when she accidentally attracts Kree attention to earth again. Carol Danvers takes up the mantle shortly later, after gaining powers herself. At first she isn't comfortably with the legacy and goes by Ms Marvel, but Wendy persists that Carol should be Captain Marvel, so that doesn't last long.

In 1982, Wendy Lawson dies of cancer. The funeral is attended by a majority of the active or retired superheroes at that time.

In 1989, Carol Danvers is forced to flee earth by the rising Augment regimes (Khan Noonien Singh being the most noteworthy) when one of them causes the ecological collapse of multiple Kree star systems and frames her for having caused it, which even she herself believes, as a distraction that will successfully keep her occupied in space for decades to come.

In 2003, Billy Batson is inspired by the comicbooks loosely based on the adventures of Lawson (the same comics also inspire Jean Grey and Kamala Khan) to take on the name Captain Marvel when he gets unrelated superpowers from the wizard Shazam. In following years his adoptive siblings will join him and become known as the Captain Marvel family of heroes in Fawcett City.

In 2006, Billy Batson travels back in time to World War 2 and teams up with the Justice Society of America. He doesn't recognize the pre-transition Mar-Vell as one of the soldiers he fights against. However, working alongside actual soldiers in the Justice Society and seeing what wartime superheroing was like makes him rethink the military moniker "Captain", and afterward he starts going by CM1 instead (taking after his brother going by CM3). The press, despite his protests, will continue to refer to him as Captain Marvel for years to come.

In 2009, Rick Jones briefly goes by Captain Marvel after bonding with Genis-Vell, an unstable clone of the pre-transition soldier Mar-Vell. He retires the same year and encourages Genis to transition as Lawson had. Genis becomes Phyla-Vell and briefly maintains heroics as Captain Marvel, but leaves earth within a few months to try to build a new life and find an identity distant from the homes and legacy of Lawson.

In 2015, Carol Danvers discovers she was framed for space crimes, and why, and returns to earth, only to find the Eugenics War already ended without her back in 1998, with the surviving Augments having fled into space. She joins the New Avengers (this being the aftermath of the Avengers Civil War still).

Monica Rambeau never went by Captain Marvel... at least not in the still-extant timestream. She and multiple other heroes have memories of her serving as Captain Marvel, during the 5 years and 8 months of the aborted timestream in which "The Snap" occured. These five years were "reset" and erased by the Avengers, including Monica herself, in order to bring back the half the universe that Thanos had killed, and Monica chose to not take up the mantle again.

[v4lta01]

Rewatched Infinity war and forgot how much it hurts-

[zukaiaz-x]

Getting into mcu in 2024 is wild cuz I already know half the plot of the movies, the comics are up my ass, and the fandom is funny as fuck. (And miserable too)

[idk-bruh-20]

Irondad fic ideas #159

Fic set in a universe where they never reversed the snap. The world has been grieving for 8 years.

Suddenly, one of the snapped reappears, but it is not Peter Parker. It's someone else (maybe Strange, Wanda, Bucky...)

There's debate about what to do. The returned person doesn't seem to remember much, although it's possible they remember more than they're letting on. Should the remaining Avengers study them, interrogate them, let them live out a peaceful life and forget about everyone else?

The debate gets way more intense when Tony Stark finds out what's going on. They've tried to keep it from him, knowing how he'd react, and he definitely lives up to expectations.

Of course they need to find out everything this person knows. They need to bring their missing people back. They need to bring back his son.

How hard will Tony push to find out the truth? to bring his kid home?

Bonus:

At some point, the person admits that they were lying about their memories. They're here because they fell through a portal. They're from another universe.

Except... they genuinely didn't know Tony had a son? They've never heard of anyone called Peter Parker. And yes, their universe does have a Spider-Man. Their universe even has a May Parker -- she died recently, btw. And it was Spider-Man's fault.

This awful news, and the horror story Tony infers from it, makes him even more determined to rescue his kid. Once they learn how to reverse the snap, he's going to make sure he lives to protect Peter from bullshit like what this other Peter Parker had to go through.

Still, he's heartbroken for the version of his kid in this other universe. Before sending the universe hopper back to where they belong, he tells them all about Peter and asks them to find him, to keep him safe. He may or may not send some tech with videos for all of their memory-zapped loved ones too.

This fic idea was inspired by this fic by @asyouleft!

[bullet-proof-killjoy]

okay hear me out: sandman could have beat thanos if the writers ever put them in a room together

[raccoonfallsharder]

the raccoon, the witch, & the roadtrip.✮part five. montana.

the raccoon, the witch, & the roadtrip masterlist prev | next | main masterlist

angst, comfort, friendship, & fluff for @hibatasblog rocket & wanda | part 5/7 | word count: 1975.

what makes a person a monster?

During a watch party for Avengers: Endgame on Twitter, Markus revealed the idea to team Wanda with the Guardian of the Galaxy captain actually made it into several versions of the film's script. "We had whole drafts with Wanda on a road trip with Rocket," Markus wrote, "but after the Vision plot in Infinity War, nothing we came up with was anything but wheel spinning for her character." CBR

Wanda hadn’t felt much like talking since they’d left the bar. She can’t possibly describe the lurch in her lungs when she’d woken alone in the room, and found Rocket—

gone.

She peels it apart when they get in the car: silent, lost in her thoughts. Rocket doesn’t turn on his music right away, and when she casts a sideways glance at him, he looks vaguely uncomfortable: shifting in his seat, clenching and unclenching his fists. He looks like he wants to be taking something apart, inventing something new — anything to take his mind off whatever’s eating him inside. 

After the scene in the bar, when the bartender had poured Rocket’s drink so shakily that the mouth of the bottle had clanked against the glass tumbler, Wanda had sat beside her companion quietly. The bartender had wisely left the bottle behind, and then had gotten to work with the rest of the wide-eyed, ashen hotel staff to clean up the glass that had been broken in the altercation. She’d watched her furry colleague bemusedly as he sulked over his liquor, and had tried to tell herself that she had only been concerned because Rocket had been missing, and she’d known that someone walking around looking like a sentient raccoon could only get in trouble, no matter how well-intentioned and well-behaved he’d been attempting to be.

She had tried to tell herself it was just concern for a missing hero in a cruel world.

But her reaction had been too visceral to keep herself convinced. As she’d unfolded the truth of herself, wincing, she’d had to acknowledge that the way fear had suddenly ripped through her belly had been all too similar to the ache she’d felt when she’d lost Pietro: screaming hollowly at the root of her lungs, at the vagus nerve laced against her heart. A shrieking void in the center of a fiery cyclone. It had been an agony of terror: to think her new, small, sarcastic friend had been taken from her like everyone else.

When she’d seen him — safe, but on the verge of becoming a victim of his own temper — she’d wrapped her power around him as carefully as she knew how. And when she’d realized what was happening, her own temper had surged: some strange combination of fire and ice. 

She’s so tired of people being treated as less-than, of lives being overlooked. 

Especially the lives she loves. 

Rocket still doesn’t speak. They make their way through a number of national forests before he even hesitantly reaches out to fuss with the music again. She says nothing as something mellow spills from the speakers, but she can feel her shoulders ease. It takes another hour before his feet are kicking again, and he’s humming something low and husking along with the lyrics. 

“Uh, hey,” he says at last, his voice rasping as the sun begins to cast a melting-gold crust over the edge of the trees ahead of them, light hitting the western crest of the world and sprawling upward in sprays of topaz and rose and aquamarine. “Thanks for — I dunno. Sorry for fucking up at the last place. And thanks for, uh, stepping in.” He shifts next to her, one shoulder hitching uncomfortably. She watches from her periphery as his lip curls in a clenched-jaw grimace, like he’s tasted something sour. 

She weighs that quietly. 

“I was as angry as you were, once I understood what was happening,” she admits.

The wince lingering in the corner of his mouth and eyelids softens. “Saw that,” he acknowledges after a long minute, spooled with the crooning tones of whomever’s singing from the zune now. “Don’t know — I think only Nebs has ever, uh. Stuck up for me like that.” His voice sounds parched and cracked and starved, like he’s not certain what he’s trying to say. Like maybe the words feel disloyal, somehow, to his absent friends. Something answering cracks open in her ribs. She knows he loved the rest of the Guardians — Pete, he’d mentioned, referring to the owner of the zune. Gamora, whom Wanda has gathered had been sacrificed to Thanos’ goals, just like Vis. But it hurts her to think that Rocket’s little adopted family wouldn’t have been just as offended on his behalf as she had been. Or maybe they would have been, and he just doesn’t realize it. Either way, it hurts. It hurts to think that he believes no-one would have been moved to intercede, to demand respect on his behalf, or to offer comfort.

Pietro would have devastated anyone whom he’d perceived as treating her as inferior. And in his own gentle, wise way, Vis would have fought for her as well. 

At least he has Nebula, now, she thinks, and a space inside her loosens. She hasn’t spoken with the awkward blue cyborg — not anymore than she’s spoken to anyone else on the team, preferring to stay off to the side, needing to observe. But knowing that Rocket feels like “Nebs” would step in for him allows some of the tension in her neck and shoulders to ease.

“You — you got a lot of power,” Rocket says tentatively. “As much as Danvers, maybe.”

She feels herself go watchful and wary again. The silence is heavy in the little car, even smothering the faint music trailing from the speakers. 

“Or more,” she admits at last, quietly.

He acknowledges her addition with a mild grunt and a nod.

“Ya know, the Guardians of the Galaxy numbers are lookin’ pretty slim these days,” he says musingly. “F’you ever wanna get off this planet. Could find a spot for you, prob’ly.” He slants her a taunting grin. “Pretty sure we’re more fun than the Avengers. Less stuffy and judgy, too.”

She can’t help the delicate snort that scrapes up the back of her throat, edged with laughter. And here she’d been worried that he was scared of her. Instead, twice in two days, now, he’s made her laugh.

Regular laughter seems like such a distant memory. It is a distant memory, and a frail one. She’d had it before the Stark industries mortar shell, and then again in her time with Vis — but certainly not since. 

Other than that first time she’d seen him bickering with Nebula on the compound lawn.

“Not that every part of this planet sucks,” Rocket admits grudgingly from beside her. The last flickers of sun-gold ricochet off the distant line of tree and mountain, settling into a rosy-lavender and hydrangea-blue. “This section’s kinda nice, if you’re into that sort of thing. Reminds me of specifical parts a’ Berhert or Foresteria.”

She considers the Montana terrain. “Are you into that sort of thing?”

He smirks. “Not enough places to get into trouble for me,” he says with a sideways toss of his head. “No gambling. Or booze.” He pauses to waggle his brows at her, so exaggerated that she can see the gesture even in her periphery. “Or tail.”

This time, when she laughs, it hasn’t crawled up her spine: it’s as bright as it had been the other day, so merry in the air that it’s utterly foreign to her ears.

“You are ridiculous,” she tells him, but he only gifts her a shit-eating grin.

“What about you?” he asks. “You ever think about runnin’ away from Terra? Come hang out with the cool kids in the stars?”

She snorts again and glances sideways at him in the melting velvet shadows. How does the space inside Natasha’s car, with its ruined dashboard and sound system, feel so much easier than anywhere she’s ever been in the past five years? How does it feel so much easier than anywhere she’s ever been at all, unless it was with Vis?

“Not exactly,” she says quietly.

“Not exactly?”

She hesitates and chews the inside of her lip at the corner of her mouth. 

“I think about making a place for myself,” she admits after a handful of quiet breaths. The song on the zune blurs into something new. “A place where… where things are the way they’re supposed to be.”

The quiet expands. Doubles.

“Whaddaya mean?” her companion asks at last. There’s tension in his voice, but it’s surprisingly quiet. As soft as she imagines his fur.

She hesitates. “I could — I think I could do it. Make a place — like in the old TV shows. Somewhere perfect, where people can be happy. Where I can be happy.”

The silence drawls through the music, and she can feel Rocket’s anxiety. She’d been silly to think he might be scared of her before, because now she can feel it — crackling and tense. But… it’s also careful. Testing. Cautious. She knows if she’d said something like this to any one of the Avengers, they’d probably try to lock her up immediately. They don’t understand her magic, and they don’t understand her. And they certainly don’t understand her pain. 

After all, they’ve always been able to look away.

And while she can tell that Rocket doesn’t like what she’s shared — the dangerous little truth she’s laid out between their armrests — somehow, she doesn’t feel judged.

“I get that,” he says at last, his voice grudging and slow. “Wanting that. Me myself, I never had the — I never had the power to sort of…  reshape the galaxy into what I wanted.” He pauses, and she can feel him gathering his thoughts in the dusk like the fireflies that used to litter the Sokovian summer grasses. When he speaks again, his voice has grown as dark as the world outside their car: grim and solemn and hard. “But I definitely been one a’ the poor morons who got caught up in someone else’s idea of perfect, and I can promise — you try to tie other people up like that, and you’re only gonna become somebody’s nightmare.”

She takes her eyes off the road, even though she shouldn’t — not here, in the dusk and the trees and the mountains. Her eyes find his in the shadows: glowing red to glowing red. She flicks her gaze over him: the broad shoulders that should be sloped inward, the opposable thumbs where there should only be dexterous fingers, the hard-packed muscle where she would expect a soft layer of fat. She’d decided that maybe he was an alien — and perhaps that’s true — but now she realizes there’s more to it than just that. 

Someone’s shaped him into this.

Who was your nightmare? she thinks, and remembers Ultron again. Trying to reshape the world. It’s not the first time in the last five years that her fantasies of recreating a small slice of the world have given her pause — but it is the first time that the uneasiness has outweighed the solace. 

Then she thinks of the labs. Of Hydra, yes — and the other one. The one she still isn’t sure if she remembered or dreamed up.

Rocket clears his throat, as if he knows she’s wondering what happened to make him the way he is. 

“Take that asshole Thanos,” he mutters at last, and there’s a darkness to his tone that matches her own midnight vortex of thoughts when it comes to the Mad Titan. “So frickin’ committed to what he thought would make the universe better, that he killed half of it and broke everybody else.” Her companion scowls and mutters something in a language she doesn’t understand, but it doesn’t matter, because his words have already opened up a pit in her belly: pinching and frightened.

“I wouldn’t be killing anyone,” she says, and she’s surprised by the stubbornness in her voice. It makes her flinch, and that cramp in her belly tightens apprehensively — but she goes on anyway. Trying to convince herself, she realizes, even as she speaks. “I’d give them perfect lives. I’d make them be happy.”

He lifts his head and even though her eyes are back on the road, she feels his heavy, quiet, steady stare. 

“Can’t make anybody be anything, witch.” He clears his throat, and his eyes release her. “Not without making yourself a frickin’  monster.”

sometimes i fuck around with comics-canon and throw it into my mcu fanfics so uh be ready for that with the next chapter. we're gettin weird

the raccoon, the witch, & the roadtrip masterlist prev | next | main masterlist

[reallyunluckyrunaway]

Epic Rap Battles Of History, wants to know your location...

[popcorn-plots]

[bigbangbaby-itsacrashcrashcrash]

The wheels are kicking in and I fully plan to finish this Infinity War/T70S fic once and for all. I finally have time and a creative push inside my mind, so why not throw myself into writing again? 😁 I won’t post until I’m completely finished though. I’m thinking 4-6 chapters?

To everyone that has patiently waited, left comments on my one-shot: thank you and this little sneak peek is for you 💜

Hyde stirred his spoon in his cold cup of coffee. They had all come back to the Forman’s house, with 3 people less than they had originally started with. Red was currently pacing in the living room while the news played in the background. There was an eerie silence that Hyde couldn’t shake. His Zen was useless at this point after what he witnessed in the creek. His words, and her words played over and over again. How the hell was he supposed to know this was going to happen? That there were some form of fucking super heroes out there fighting a big space alien. It almost felt like someone slipped something in his drink at the fair, and it was all one big hallucination, maybe a government experiment. Yeah that had to be it, and next thing you know, Mrs.Forman, Randy and Jackie will be walking through that door yelling at us for leaving them.

“Maybe Black Widow can come and fight Fez next” said Fez perversely. Hyde, Red and Donna look at him in a surprised but also disgusted manner, considering no one has said a word since they got home an hour ago. But of course, if someone was going to break that silence, and with a perverted comment, it would definitely be Fez.

Jackie would probably complain about her dirty clothes and hair.

“What are we going to do? This isn’t normal, and the news isn’t saying much besides the big fight. I mean, we can’t lose them forever right? The government will do something and somehow get them back, right Red?” Donna said with a quiver. She suddenly gasped and looked at everyone.

“What about Eric? We don’t even know if he’s okay! I need to call him” Donna said, running to the phone. Normally Red would be upset about long distance calls, but he too also wanted to know about his son's whereabouts. With Kitty gone, he felt empty and alone, although thankful to have Steven. That was his son too, even if he’d never say it out loud.

[glitchaxolol]

I’m rewatching all Marvel movies chronologically, and goddamn, I always cry when Peter dies. He was just a fucking kid and he was scared to die despite risking his life so often😭 Ik he comes back but it’s one of the saddest MCU deaths (saddest legit death for me would be Loki tho).

[itsagentromanoff]

Tony Stark [X]

1970-2023