#not as much as captain marvel obviously but like

[warrior-of-storms]

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The balancing act between "world's biggest superhero nerd" Kamala and "can't make the characters all-knowing" me is very difficult. Anyway I imagine that the various teen hero groups get mixed up a lot by your average everyday person, and that probably only gets harder in a world that has both Marvel and DC characters :)

[lungthief]

listen. i know it's not 2014 anymore and i know it's just a throwaway line and that the russo brothers didnt intend for marvel action blockbuster captain america the winter soldier to become the tragic gay love story that never was but man. having steve say "it's kind of hard to find someone with shared life experience" in a conversation about romantic relationships right before the bucky reveal is so cruel. it's not just about steve and bucky obviously having the shared experience of being "out of time," it's the fact that they've both been stripped of their humanity in opposite directions. steve is a legend, he is an american hero and a national icon before he is a human being the same way that bucky is a weapon and a killing machine before he is a human being. steve knows that anyone who falls in love with him in the 21st century fell in love with captain america first, and that's just not him. but then the one person who knew him first and knew him best and loved him (not captain america, that little guy from brooklyn) so much he died for it is alive, impossibly. and it's a miracle because he's back and it's horrific because he's back under the worst possible circumstances. but to steve, the winter soldier is worth tearing the world apart for because he's always been bucky first. they find each other and suddenly they're human again. and maybe, despite it all, being "out of time" becomes a blessing, because in this century they'd finally be allowed to love each other the way they've always wanted to. like real people do.

like. no. the captain america trilogy isn't about two queer men traumatized and alienated by war and modern life rediscovering and reclaiming their humanity through their love for each other. but. i mean. it couldve been

[jinjeriffic]

Dan Phantom vs. the Justice League

Most DCxDP fanworks gloss over how Dark Danny/Phantom kills the JL, or argue that TUE wouldn't play out the same way in the DC universe, since there are tons of superheroes and some would have a way of beating Dan. So let us dig into this with a shovel!

I would like to point out that we have seen plenty of apocalyptic/dark futures in DC. Even without Dan, that superhero multiverse is constantly teetering on the knife's edge of catastrophe! It feels like every couple of months someone has to stop the end of the world. Dan is just one more possible future to avert.

Dan is not a mindless monster, he is capable of planning, subterfuge and working with/coercing others to work with him (i.e. Fright Knight). He has both Danny and Vlad's memories, so in a crossover setting there is no way he wouldn't know about the public superheroes and villains at least.

Speaking of, DC is obviously crawling with supervillains and world destroying entities. Nobody said Dan had to conquer the world alone! I can totally see him working with and manipulating other villains to achieve his goals, only to stab them in the back later (ho-ho).

Dan's powers of invisibility, intangibility, duplication, overshadowing etc. make him an ideal candidate for infiltration, espionage and sabotage. Unless a person or location is specifically shielded against ghosts with tech or magic, he can get in and out without anybody noticing. Sure, someone like Batman probably had his home proofed against supernatural attacks, but surely not most of them! I envision him taking down Earth's heroes by extensively spying on them first.

Consider: Dan causes a major disaster that requires superhero intervention (runaway train, high-rise fire, sinking oil tanker etc.) and waits for someone to show up. When they do, Dan uses his duplicates to follow the hero(es) home/to work etc. Learn their identity, their weaknesses, their loved ones etc.

Dan could strategically leak hero identities to villains with a grudge who have no problem going after their civilian lives. This could also act as a smoke screen so the heroes don't immediately realize someone is targeting all of them.

Overshadow a loved one and use them to kill the hero - "Oh, Hero X got in an argument with their SO and their SO shot them in a fit of passion? Their SO claims having blacked out just before they picked up the gun? Trauma will do that."

Use intangibility to plant bombs, nerve gas, radioactive materials, etc. in the homes of various heroes and set them off in a coordinated strike.

Probably the biggest threat to Dan would be magic based heroes or supernatural entities (Captain Marvel, Doctor Fate, the JLD, etc.). They would also be the most likely to have countermeasures in place against ghosts, or a way to detect him. But they're also mostly suited for fighting the supernatural. I admittedly don't know enough about a lot of these characters - would say, Zatanna think to have a shield in place against sudden sniper attacks? Dan could steal some money and hire Deathstroke/Deadshot etc to blow their head off when they're out in the open.

Have I mentioned what a nightmare Dan would be in terms of security? I can totally see him say, breaking into the CDC and unleashing smallpox, ebola and any number of virulent diseases on the world. Cause some nuclear meltdowns. Knock down a dam. Steal some highly radioactive isotopes! Would the magic heroes be protected against something that can give you a lethal dose of radiation within minutes?

What I'm saying is, a clever and ruthless villain like Dan could unleash enough chaos with his OP powerset to overwhelm the heroes and then pick a lot of them off. He's pretty much the definition of someone who just wants to see the world burn!

[wonderjanga]

Father’s Day

@autistic-human’s post and @moonlightcycle571’s comment on said post were the inspiration for this one. I love dad Marvel soooooo much, cause I think Billy would try his best to be a good adult figure without even realizing it can come off as parental. He’d just be doing what he would’ve wanted someone to do for him, which was be there for whichever kid no matter what. So what happens when a bunch of angsty teens with trauma meet him? He’s obviously going to try his best to be there for them!

Like Kon, when he first met Marvel, he didn’t really know what to think of the man. He was nice. Almost overwhelmingly so. He also helps Kon with anything if he ever needs help. He’s also almost always around and is willing to talk about virtually anything with Kon too. And this isn’t just exclusive to him, but to everyone. (It makes him feel slightly queasy sometimes. He hasn’t realized what he’s feeling is jealousy whenever his parental figure’s attention is on another kid.) So that’s why when Father’s Day came around and M’gann suggested they all do something for Marvel, he was a little dumbfounded. One, because he just came to the realization that he thinks of Marvel as a kinda dad, and two, because what were they going to do? Marvel isn’t actually their dad, so what if the Captain finds it weird? Kon really doesn’t want to think about Cap finding all of this weird.

The YJ eventually decided to just get Cap a gift. They were all pretty sure that’s what you were supposed to give fathers. Now the question is: what to give him?

Marvel: *goes to Mount Justice to check in on the kids*

YJ: *All in the kitchen fighting about how to frost the cookies cause they all did it differently*

Marvel: *hears them and comes to the kitchen*

YJ: *doesn’t notice him*

Kon: *Does notice and picks up his batch of cookies and goes to Marvel* “Cap.” *presents cookies to Billy*

Marvel: “Huh?” *stares at cookies. Kon’s cookies are a bunch of mishapen blobs with smiley faces* “Are these for me?”

Kon: *nods head* “They’re you.”

Marvel: *takes a cookie with one of the biggest smiles Kon has ever seen on the man’s face* “This is amazing… thanks Kon!” *bites cookie* “They’re really good too!”

Kon: “Really?” *eyes shining at the praise*

Marvel: “Yeah!” *finishes cookie and is about to grab another one*

Other YJ members: *now notice Marvel and Kon* “Wait! Wait! Wait! Try mine next!” *they all proceed to take turns shoving cookies into Marvel’s hands*

Marvel: *eats them all and gives each of them stellar reviews*

About after thirty minutes of Marvel and the kids eating cookies…

Marvel: “What was all this for by the way?”

YJ: “Huh?”

Marvel: “What was all this for? I mean, it’s not my birthday, so…” *doesn’t know it’s Father’s Day*

YJ: “Oh uh… We just felt like it.”

Marvel: “Oh. Okay!” *just happy to gobble the last, remaining cookies* “By the way, this means a lot to me. Even if it was just a spur of the moment thing. I appreciate it.”

YJ: *all super duper uper happy he loves it but trying not to show it* “No problem.” (Spoiler: they’re not very good at hiding it.)

Then there’s Damian. He’s always had a love-hate relationship with Marvel’s happy go lucky, friendly attitude, but it sort of reminds him of Grayson so he’ll never admit it but it’s leaning more towards love. The man has also weirdly never once gotten mad at him, or at anyone as far as he can tell. He’s extremely patient, and the fact that Damian hasn’t pushed the limits of that patience yet is surprising to the young Wayne. The man also knows a surprising about of animal facts and lets him pet his tiger. So that’s another bonus. The man also doesn’t underestimate him solely based on the fact he’s a child. So, when the Father’s Day holiday rolls around, he decides he would reward Marvel for being an admittedly commendable person.

Marvel: *standing by the window of the Titan’s tower, looking at Jump City*

Damian: *appears from nowhere* “Captain.”

Marvel: *jumps before looking to Damian* “Yes, Robin?”

Damian: *holds up Alfred the Cat* “This is Alfred the Cat. I’m giving you the privilege to pet him just this once. Say hi, Alfred.”

Alfred the Cat: *meows*

Marvel: “Hi.” *little wave to Alfred* “Nice to meet you, Alfred.” *shakes Alfred’s little paw before petting him*

Damian: *lets Marvel get a single pet in before pulling Alfred away* “Alright, that’s enough.”

Marvel: “Oh- uh…” *smiles at Damian* “Thanks for letting me pet him, Robin.”

Damian: “Your welcome.” *nods at him before walking off to bring Alfred back to the manor*

Then there’s also Raven. She honestly had no intention of even thinking about the holiday, considering the fact her father is a demon that actively sucks and ruins her life. Then she saw Damian do his thing and after thinking about the Captain and how the man cares for her and her team members… she supposed he should get some type of reward. The man is extremely nice after all.

A little while after Damian’s departure…

Marvel: *back to looking out the window*

Raven: *also appears out of nowhere* “Marvel.”

Marvel: *jumps just like with Damian and looks to her* “Yes, Raven?”

Raven: *presents Marvel with a mini version of himself*

Mini Marvel: *waves to Billy*

Marvel: “Wha?” *bends down slightly to look at Mini Marvel with a confused smile* “Is that me?”

Raven: *nods head* “It’s a new spell I learned. I wanted to show you.”

Marvel: *pokes Mini Marvel in the stomach* “This is… Amazing!” *gives her a wide grin* “You’re amazing!”

Raven: *a little surprised she feels happy at the man’s approval but isn’t really hating* “Thanks.”

Marvel: “Actually, wait. Hold up!” *mutters a spell and in his hand spawns a Mini Raven. He places the Mini Raven in Raven’s palm with the Mini Marvel*

Mini Marvel: *fawning over Mini Raven*

Mini Raven: *blankly staring at Mini Marvel and lets it fawn*

Marvel: “And you’re saying you learned this spell on your own?” *looks away from the Minis and to Raven* “That’s awesome. You did a wonderful job.”

Raven: *doesn’t really know how to handle all the praise* “Thanks… I’m uh… I think I left the stove on.” *instead of heading to the kitchen, runs off to her room*

Marvel ended up later telling the other members of the JL how many gifts he’s gotten that day. They were a little confused and wondered how many kids Marvel could have. But no, they found out that a lot of their own kids think of him as a somewhat father. Also, a few of the adults might’ve thought about slipping Marvel gifts when the man wasn’t looking cause Billy being a dad isn’t just exclusive to the kids.

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for inkwell; “Billy and Damian and the whole soulmate thing”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“God, please let that be true,” Flash mutters into his hands. “Just–for my sanity. For all the bars we took him to. For my marriage.” 

“I mean, magic and all . . .” Green Lantern allows warily. “It can be weird like that, right? So if this is just another Doctor Fate situation . . .” 

“Oh yeah, Nabu is a thing we want to have happen to a preteen,” Black Canary says in exasperation, shooting him a withering look. “That would make the situation fine, Hal.” 

“Is the kid actually at risk when Cap’s in danger?” Green Arrow asks. “Is that a thing, uh–kiddo?” 

“You can immediately stop calling me that, thanks,” Billy says, giving him a sour look. Freaking–“kiddo”, as if. 

“Tell us who did this to you, Billy,” Superman says, looking very serious all of a sudden, and Billy is kind of offended by the question, actually? He just had a job interview, he didn’t get cursed or anything. Like, a surprise job interview he admittedly did not apply for, but that’s not the point! Superman also did not apply to end up on a yellow-sun planet, so who even cares?! 

“That’s a really invasive question, actually,” Billy says, folding his arms stubbornly. “Actually all of these questions are pretty invasive? I don’t ask you guys stuff this invasive, and even if I did, it wouldn’t be giving so much of a ‘stranger danger’ vibe.” 

Superman looks really stressed again. 

“Are we truly strangers, my friend?” Wonder Woman asks, giving him a searching look, and then Billy feels–alright, maybe a little bit bad about all this. He was just doing his job, because somebody has to do it and he’s gonna make sure it gets done, but he didn’t wanna, like . . . okay, no, he definitely did wanna lie to them, he wants to lie to literally every adult he knows literally all the time because it just makes life way easier and safer and all that, but that’s not the point or whatever. 

But also, apparently everyone thinks he’s stupid now that they know he’s twelve, and he is not falling for that one that easy. 

“I literally just told you we were?” he says, squinting back at her doubtfully. “Captain Marvel’s his own guy.” 

“That seems unlikely, since you still recognized Robin as your soulmate while you were transformed,” Batman says in that stupid neutral tone of his that’s always so freakin’ dangerous. “And he also recognized you.” 

. . . dammit, Billy thinks, and eyes him. 

“You suck,” he says sourly. He went all this time without Batman noticing he was a kid, Batman doesn’t get to notice things now, dammit! “And I take back everything about you being a good person or whatever."

“Oh hell, he really is twelve,” Flash groans, burying his face in the table outright this time. 

“I was nine when you asked me for relationship advice the first time, and you told me I was way better with women than you were and bought me an alcoholic slushie,” Billy informs him blithely, because he’s feeling kind of spiteful now. Flash groans and slides down the table, covering his head with his arms. 

Billy feels a little better. Alcohol literally doesn’t even work on him when he’s Captain Marvel and he’d really only wanted the slushie anyway, but literally everyone here deserves him being spiteful right now.

Like–except Robin, obviously.

[wildglitch]

Captain Marvel Prompt, GO!

The JL are having trouble with some magic users causing issues, so they call some magic users including Captain Marvel to deal with it. They end up having a bit of troubel so Cap calls in the best person to help. His brother obviously.

The JL had no idea he worked with other people and have no clue what their relationship is, but they're welcoming. Meanwhile Freddy is having the time of his life finally getting to know the JL and getting to work with them. This is his first anything with them and first imprssions matter.

Flash forwards, they manage to find their base. Its some casino like thing that anyone is invited to. They are about to go in when they are to that the buliding has some sort of power nullifier. So while it dosent take away their powers completly, they can't deppend on them and the supers are basically regular people with a very small boost that is barely noticable.

No problem right? They can still fight just fine with out them. And its not like they are taking their wepons away. It will be fine.

Billy: *Looks at his flying brother*...

Freddy: *Staring at his legs in despair*...

B/F: Fuck-

Cue Billy and Freddy derailing the mission for 30 mins as they break into a near by Walmart looking for anything and everything that can work as a crutch for Freddy while they yell at eachother, the universe, and Walmart for not having easy accese aids for disabeld people. All of this happening by a very confused JL that just stand awkwardly at the side not really understanding whats happening.

So much for first impressions

They get it eventually and help him find a par that fit. The mission is a succses and Billy and Freddy manage to stop the magic thing. Freddy is super embarrases about how his first mission went, the JL are impressed with his inteligence and ability to hold his own, and Batman is making a new protical for any and every dissability that their members could have, be it visibal or not.

(Billy is just super proud of his brother, and is still begging for his forgivness for breaking his crutches by using them as a wepon again)

[puppetwoman17]

Okay so I love all of the cap identity reveal stories. Obviously. The anticipation of the reactions, the fact that someone they’ve known for so long, someone they’ve fought with and laughed with and cried with, is not even half their age…

But what if they NEVER found out? Cap’s identity, I mean.

I don’t mean life just continues on with Billy leading his separate lives. It’s more like(this next part is so fucking drastic lol) the league thinks cap is dead and suffer with the hole he left behind, only to somehow find out he’s alive, and to add fuel to the fire, he’s a young radio host in Fawcett.

The JL( and other heroes if you want) are fighting a being with incredibly powerful magic. I’m not good with the specifics, but it lines up with someone like Lady Blaze. The YJ team are acting as reconnaissance and backup. Everyone’s doing their part, including Cap.

But then something goes wrong. A miscalculation is all it takes for the fight to spin in the villain’s favor. Magic is a fickle thing. One wrong move, and sparks will fly with reckless abandon.

The fight is nearing an end, and it’s clear that almost all the heroes have been rendered useless. They’re either limping up to go again, or unconscious from the strain.

Everyone but Captain Marvel, that is.

To bring an end to the fight, Cap unleashes a powerful stream of magic, something no one has ever seen him pull off. It seems to zap everything out of him. The next thing you know he’s falling, his body slowly disintegrating. He makes it to the floor and smiles at the other heroes, all of whom are crying their hearts out as gold dust replaces him, for divine beings have no blood.

Billy, on the other hand, is fucking pissed. Apparently, Shazam created a failsafe in case something like this happens. He wakes up in the rock, unable to transform. His magic is still there, and with Solomon’s help he learns that his champion form will return after a couple years. For now, he needs to rest his reservoir.

Now, you’d think he would go tell the league, right?

But he’s not so little anymore, and he now knows that him being younger won’t be the only issue. Younger him was only worried about that little tidbit, but in truth, there was no guarantee they would let him stay if they knew he’d been lying so much. If he’d been able to keep his age a secret for so long, what else could he be hiding?

It’s not something he wants to do. The League, the YJ team, the Titans, they’ve all become like a family to him, despite almost all of them(barring the magic heroes) not knowing who he is. But he can’t risk being watched by parental hawks whenever he’s doing his champion work as Billy. He can’t risk them learning about his… circumstances. His crappy uncle, his annoying cousin, his(an oc I created for this post specifically but dw he’s not that important) crooked cop of a younger-older cousin. His living situation, his previous state of malnutrition, and all of his responsibilities. What a nightmare that would be, explaining all of that.

Also, he tries not to sound too cocky in his head, but he’s fairly sure at least a little less than half of the JL would kill for him. Or at least they’d beat someone to a pulp, which is still a pretty big deal.

So, he washes his hands of the JL and the sub teams and handles his champion work(bar fighting now cause his other body needs to regenerate) in his civilian form. It helps that the magic community, all sides of the spectrum, collectively decide not to tell the other heroes that their Champion is alive. They can get really annoying when it comes to their Boy Scout 🙄.

Plot, plot, plot happens. I’m thinking maybe Whiz gets an opportunity to interview JL members and they send their best reporter for the job. Or maybe something happens on the magic spectrum that brings them closer to Billy. Either way, the JL finds out Cap’s identity without Billy knowing and they are PISSED.

Billy has to deal with countless vigilantes, heroes, and teams lounging on his couch trying to goad him into revealing who he is. Either that r they follow him throughout Fawcett. Some people are angry with him, like Conner or either of the Roys. They try to make him angry. They want to see the real Cap, the real Billy(which is stupid cause of course cap isnt a fake persona but they’re too mad to realize).

Others feel betrayed, like Artemis and Wally(I refuse to acknowledge his death). Cap was a best man at the wedding and they really started to look to him as a sort of father figure. In fact, all the younger heroes love how he stood up for them and validated their feelings. To know that so much of their worries were being shouldered by someone who was years younger than them…

And the JL is worse off too. Their coworker, who they trusted and cared for, had been living alone since he was a child. Having to save for scraps until he finally got a home of his own.

The magic users are practically waiting for Billy to blow a fuse at everyone either fussing over him, attempting to make him mad, or following him whenever they felt the need. Mary’s laughing her ass off and Freddy’s smirking because now he can say “I told you so”. Shazam’s shaking his head because he told his damn protege that the champion doesn’t DO teams, but look where they are now.

Teth is honestly ecstatic. Comes to the next higher ups meeting and laughs in Billy’s face.

And Billy? Billy at least hopes he can make some money off of this: Okay but if I let you stay on my couch for the next three hours, that’s gonna cost you.

No no, I’ll let you follow me, but only if you do this one interview.

Maybe just stop trying to make me mad and just talk to me? Like I get you have issues but I already have a shit load of that so…

[lady-ace]

(inspired by Puppetmaster13u's Cryptid AU, please check it out, it's amazing)

(formating inspired by Wonderjanga since i'm extremely new to Tumblr and tought it looked neat)

Inside Fawcett city, creatures of any kind were welcomed and seen as normal. An walking, talking, crocodile? Yeah, that's just Peter. A minotaur sharing a lemonade with an vampire? That's just Jeff and Jasmine.

Captain Marvel, the city's hero, though, seemed human. (or Kryptonian.. but there are records of kryptonite being thrown at him and him being fine if not confused)

Now, imagine if Billy (and thus, Captain Marvel) were cryptids who use magic to make an illusion to fool others into thinking he's more human-like, in an effort to appear less threatening, scary or weird.

His cape? That's his wings. When up in the air, the illusion magic makes them look like they're floating, but they're actually beating to make sure Marvel stays up in the air. When not in use, they fold in his back to appear more like well.. an cape.

When he joins the Justice league, he's oblivious to the gossip mill his teammates created.

Hal: “Dude, i'm telling you, he's not human.”

Barry: “What else could he be, then? Like, it's a given he's at least some type of meta, but what exactly? Kryptonian? An regular human with powers that can rival superman's?”

Diana: (a bit distracted, not paying full attention to the gossip) “My guess would be that he has some connection to the greek gods. He does mention them often. Maybe he's an demi-god himself?”

Hal: (shocked) “You CANNOT just drop that into the conversation and not elaborate.”

//

Oliver: (a bit annoyed) “Batman, could you please tell Robin to keep his pets out of the watchtower? There are feathers everywhere!”

Bruce: “Hmm? I can't see how Robin could have sneaked into the watchtower any kind of bird without me knowing. Could you show me one of the feathers so i could ask him about it?”

(Oliver gets up, a big, white and golden feather in hands, and gives it to Batman)

Bruce: (looking the feather over, thinking how this is too big to have been from one of Damian's chickens or parakeets) “...”

(Marvel, who happened to be passing by, sees the feathers all scattered about, with Batman with one in hand, immediatly gets embarrased about how he forgot the illusion spell breaks when he transforms back into Billy, and thus leaves the feathers behind) “Hey.. sorry, those are mine. I'll clean them up.”

Oliver: “What do you m-”

(Both Oliver and Bruce look over, Oliver obviously very confused)

Oliver: “You own a bird and let it loose on the watchtower?”

Marvel: “Oh, no, no, those are mine. Like.. mine mine.”

(Billy breaks the spell, the illusion going off instantly)

Oliver: "OH! oh, i see what you mean.”

//

Hal: “So, he's an.. bird-like humanoid and uses an spell to look like what we're used to seeing him as?”

Oliver: “From what i saw, yeah, pretty much.”

Barry: “...i owe Cyborg 10 dollars.”

Hal: (sighing) “Same.”

[megamindsupremacy]

So. ive been going through your billy batson tag bc im very normal and super hinged about this kid and you ARE right about Billy growing up the normal way and how that would effect him, but I need us all to consider the opposite: The Magic went "Ah, he's pure of heart bc he is but a lad", and not *letting* him grow up. Billy being immortal but stuck as a kid forever. The realization everyone is going to grow up w/o him. That he is *always* going to be a kid. That could be a very bad time too.

OH MY HEART. you're so right and i'm kissing you on the mouth. okay i need to marinate in this now stand by

so I think it's fairly accepted now that the Wizard chose Billy to be Shazam when he was so young because all of the previous Champions were adults, and that went Badly (see: Black Adam). So obviously, if the adults can do the whole superhero thing, then we should give the role to a kid. But then, to take it a step further: if the adults can't do the superhero thing, then we should make the next Champion stay a kid.

And like, it takes a hot minute for Billy to notice. Say he became CM at 8 - he doesn't know the average rate of growth for a boy. He just thinks he's not getting as tall as quickly as his peers. It's not like there's adult supervision around to go "hello small small child, why are you still small and a child?" I could see him going at least a few years before realizing there might be something wrong. Then it takes him a little bit to figure out what exactly is wrong, and then a little longer to be in denial, before he finally has to come to terms with, yeah, he really is 8 years old for the rest of forever.

I wonder how it affects him, mentally? Because you could go one of two ways: either he stays mentally an 8 year old forever and doesn't mature, although he gains knowledge and experience with time, or he does mentally mature and becomes an adult, just stuck in the body of a child.

For angst reasons, I like the second one, but realistically, the whole reason he's in this mess is because the Wizard wanted someone who was pure of heart to stay pure of heart. Why go through all the trouble to not let him physically age but allow his mind to change? So now we have an eternally "both mentally and physically a child" situation.

I feel like, when you're that young, you can't really... process how devastating that is? He's only a little kid - at that age, you can't even imagine turning 18 yet, much less living out the rest of your life as an adult. He doesn't know what he's lost. So instead of Billy angst, it's outsider POV angst. Everyone is growing old and watching Billy stay the same as always. I imagine he reveals his identity at some point, a while into being Captain Marvel, and they have a Twilight moment of "I'm 8" "....how long have you been 8?" ("no, but actually, we've known you for 12 years, you can't actually be 8. what do you mean 'a wizard did it'."). Everyone is just quietly mourning the person Billy could have become, had he not been chosen to be the Champion of Magic, meanwhile Billy is living out the eternal childhood dream of Superpowers + Adult Body w/o Adult Responsibilities. It's tragic in a way Billy can never comprehend because of what the wizard did to him.

Feel free to add onto this post!

[oizysian]

XI. LET HER GO

Word count: 1.1k

All Eyes on Me masterlist

•

CELEB NEWS

Elizabeth Olsen was spotted, once again, on a 'date' with the mysterious Y/N. Olsen, 33, is married to Milo Greene band member Robbie Arnett, who was in Los Angeles at the time.

Olsen and Y/N were seen getting chummy at an ice cream parlor in New York City.

Not much is known about Y/N, as she seems to be very private despite being an Internet personality. She seems to get along well with the Marvel actress and her co-stars, as Y/N was also spotted hanging out with Brie Larson, better known as Captain Marvel.

•

"Shit."

I bit my lip as I read and re-read the article, again and again as if it would magically change before my eyes. Now, this was bad.

I sat in silence, staring at my phone clenched tightly in my hand. We really fucked up this time. I really fucked up this time.

Maybe if I just ignored it, it would go away, cease to exist, disappear.

My phone vibrated, a text message appearing at the top of my screen. Brie, obviously having seen the article, and god knows how many others, wanted to know what was going on. No wonder she was confused, I had been so adamant about keeping my relationship with Lizzie strictly platonic, that now that the lines were blurred, publically, I had a lot of explaining to do.

I scratched my head in frustration, hoping the sensation of my nails against my scalp would distract me from yet another mess I got myself into. Why did I have to go and screw everything up?

It's just a misunderstanding.

I finally replied to her, and it was true. It hadn't been a date and the flirting had just been innocent fun between friends. Now to explain this to everyone else.

What did it matter what the world thought anyway? Lizzie and I both knew what was going on. Rumors and gossip just came with the territory and it was something I had to get used to.

My phone went dim with inactivity and I sighed. I should be talking to Lizzie about this. She was the married one - she was the one who had the most to lose. Her marriage, her reputation was all at stake here.

The ringing of my phone caused me to nearly jump straight out of my skin. I took a deep breath and checked who it was before answering.

Lizzie.

Shit, shit, shit, okay, I could do this.

I cleared my throat and picked up, waiting a beat before finally speaking.

"Hello?"

"Y/N," she was crying. "We need to talk."

"Lizzie," I was panicking now. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Robbie and I had a fight."

I swallowed roughly, my stomach turning at her words. I could feel the bile of sick rising up my throat as I processed her words.

It was all my fault.

"Lizzie, I-I'm sorry." I was silent as she cried on the line. "I'm sorry."

"I told him we're just friends, but he doesn't believe me."

Of course he doesn't. He would have to be an idiot to ignore the signs of an affair, even an emotional one. But, we weren't having an affair of any kind. We were just very friendly with each other.

"I don't know what to do." I felt helpless.

"Just ... just talk to me."

"Okay." I breathed in. "I can do that. I can talk."

She let out a small, broken chuckle and I couldn't help my heart fluttering at the sound. Even at a time like this, I could still make her laugh - even if unintentionally.

"Where are you?"

"I'm home. I got home yesterday." She sniffled. "I just can't believe he won't listen to me."

"Give it time. You didn't do anything wrong." Right?

"But, it looked wrong. And now my husband doesn't trust me."

The sick that built up in my throat nearly shot out at the severity of her words. I was ruining her marriage by playing games with her. I couldn't do this. I couldn't hurt her like this.

"Lizzie ..." I could feel the tears burning the corners of my eyes, like pinpricks. "I need to go."

"What?" She sounded so small, so hurt.

"I don't think you want to ruin your marriage over someone like me."

"W-what? Y/N, no don't do this, please -!"

"Goodbye, Elizabeth. It's better this way. I promise you'll be happier."

"No, no, Y/N!"

I hung up. I couldn't bare to hear her like that, knowing it was all my fault and that I caused such trouble between her and Robbie. We were just friends. We were.

I brought up my text messages, tapping quickly on Brie's name and typing.

I'm an idiot. I was foolish to think I could be someone special to her. I was foolish to put myself in this position. I ended it. She needs her husband more than she needs me.

It sounded as if we were having an affair. God, it did look bad. I needed time to myself. I needed to get high. I had to forget everything and make all the pain and suffering go away, just for a little while.

What have you done?

I ignored the incoming call from Lizzie, letting it ring until it went to voicemail. I could do this all day if I had to.

I let her go.

My phone rang again, this time it was Brie.

"Hel-"

"What happened?" She cut me off, getting straight to the point.

"We were seen in an ice cream shop -"

"Yeah, I know that part."

I ignored her.

"- and now Robbie thinks she's having an affair."

"Isn't she?"

"No! She-she's not! She didn't do anything wrong."

"But you did?"

"Yes." My voice was small and broken.

"What did you do that she didn't?"

"I ..." What did I do? I wasn't even sure anymore. "I made her -"

"You made her what? See that you're a great, fun person to be around? That maybe you're someone she could trust?"

"It's all 'maybes', Brie!" I was tired. So tired. "Maybe I was just a fun little distraction - who knows!"

"Y/N, you're upset. I get that. But, pushing her away isn't the answer."

"Then what is?! What could be the solution to this fucked up mess?”

"Talking things out."

"I don't want to talk. I want it to go away."

"You're an idiot if you leave it like this." She warned, and I knew she was right. But, Elizabeth's happiness meant more to me than my own.

"Then I'm an idiot."

•

@oh-thats-cute @marvelwomen-simp @dorabledewdroop @scarlie-johalsen-blog @annie-ahmelia

[bountycancelled]

a pencil, paper and an uncontrollable crush

♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧

opla!luffy x reader

requested: yes (I mixed 2 reqs so idk if that counts but reqs are still open for anyone)

genre: oneshot but in headcanon form? gn! reader, artist! reader

warnings: none, just some fluff!

a/n: I won't be writing as often becusde I'm writing my final rn, also this is short because i have a hard time imagining luffy being romantic so... enjoy!

♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧

now, it doesn't matter how obviously and hopelessly in love you are with Luffy, he's just not going to see it.

he doesn't see you make starry eyes at him, because his eyes are just as starry on a regular basis. when he catches you admiring him, he just assumes that you zoned out. (because he does that alot too)

so when he finds an incredibly detailed sketch of himself laying around on the ship, he excitedly goes from crew member to crew member, asking who drew it.

when he gets to you, notebook and pencil in hand drawing yet another portrait of him, you hang your head in mortification as he marvels at your work.

so imagine his suprise when he snatches that notebook our of your hands with a quickness to see what else you've steched in there, only to find himself on every. single. page.

I swear that his excited screaming is enough to alert other ships at sea of your exact location, but he can't help it, every drawing you've done deserves a reaction that fits how well you did it.

after he finds out about your habit, he starts striking poses for you and holding them right until your last pencil stroke on paper (or until he gets bored/hungry lol)

one night, you get a frantic knock on your door followed by Luffy's muffled voice yelling "are you still awake? I wanna show you something." so you open the door and he shoves a crumpled piece of paper right in your face.

you back up just a little bit and adjust your eyes, and you see a drawing of... some sort of animal? oh, wait nevermind, it's of you.

it's not the most artistically or anatomically sound drawing you've laid your eyes on, but it's... surprisingly detailed. he's drawn on pretty much every single visible scar, mole, freckle and mark, even some that you didn't know you had.

when you question how he managed to be so accurate, he tilts his head, pursing his lips and farrowing his brows in thought before answering. "Well, it wasn't on purpose, but I always look at you when you're around me. you catch my attention, kinda like food does!"

pause.

did Monkey D. Luffy, the strawhat captain, mister gum gum himself, just compare you to food...? moment of silence, because this is so much bigger than all of us.

after hearing this revelation, you cave and plant a quick kiss on his cheek as a thank you (and as a means to let him know of your more than platonic feelings for him), slamming the door in his face before he even has the chance to react.

p.s. Luffy doesn't have any idea why you kissed his cheek, but he knows that it made him feel good, and he wants to get one from you again.

[stellar-solar-flare]

Volatile | Chapter 2/3 | Steve Rogers x Reader

Explicit - 18+ only - Minors DNI.

Steve Rogers returns from a mission only to be immediately alerted about a medical emergency: you, the Avengers Initiative's leading science expert, have been hit by a potent, unknown aphrodisiac on your own mission. Pressed for time and out of options, he has to, together with the AI's medical department, figure out a solution.

Mutual pining, smut with feelings, eventual happy ending.

Content Warnings: explicit sexual content, sex pollen, non-consensual exposal to sex pollen, dubious consent because Reader is under the influence of an aphrodisiac (but all sex is very much mutually wanted), protective & possessive Steve Rogers, Captain kink, praise kink, very light dom/sub elements, dirty talk, pet names, thigh riding, finger sucking, mention of non-con.

Reader specifics: She/her. Works as a science specialist in AI under codename Dr. Chiral for her chemistry proficiency. Six times PhD, an Avenger. Late twenties, no description of appearance given.

Alternate Universe: The Avengers Initiative (AI) continued SHIELD's work after its collapse to corruption, with Steve as the Head Strategist and Tony as the Director. The Avengers are living together in the Tower - Bucky has healed, and Civil War never happened because Tony and Steve worked through their differences like adults.

I do not own anything Marvel related. This is an unofficial fan work. No copyright infringement intended. This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.

FIC MASTERLIST | AUTHOR MASTERLIST | AO3

<< Previous chapter

Chapter 2: Flammable

Chapter notes: This is just smut with some feelings thrown in. Read the content warnings before divign in, please, and do not proceed if any of that isn't for you.

6,198 words.

As Steve stepped through the airlock into the dim-lit containment room, you untangled yourself from the tangled sheets on the king size bed. The air condition was blasting but despite that, the only thing you had on was a white, thin t-shirt type hospital gown that was not doing a damn thing to hide your peaking nipples. It fell onto your mid-thigh, and while under some other circumstances, it might’ve been reasonably modest, right now it clung onto your damp skin tighter than a bathing suit as you moved to sit on your knees on the bed. There was a feverish glaze clouding your eyes as Steve locked the airlock door behind himself. Other than the bed and a small desk with a chair, there was a table loaded with water bottles and some fruit and protein bars you had obviously not even touched. The muted color scheme – a neutral combination of blues, greys and whites made the room feel like a hotel room or a set in a movie. The bed you sat on was a small ocean of tangled satin sheets, and the thought of you rolling in those in feverish wanton need…

“Steve,” you said, your throat dry.

His eyes raked over you, ever so slowly, and as he did, he saw your breath quicken. You didn’t seem to really believe that he was there. Maybe you had fantasized about this before he had stepped in. Maybe you had fantasized about him. Even with everything you’d said on the tape, all the things you wanted him to do to you that were now playing on repeat in his head, he just wasn’t quite sure he could believe that it wasn’t just the aphrodisiac talking.

But whether you wanted him for anything beyond this room or for just this moment, it was clear you trusted him. You trusted him to help you out in this situation, with something this incredibly intimate and volatile and vulnerable, and there was no force in the universe that would’ve made him deny you. Especially when that meant that he could touch you. There was no other reasonable solution to this. That choice had been taken away from him, and that meant he could let go. And maybe… Just maybe…

I was too much of a coward to tell you in Verona. That made two of you. And this certainly wasn’t the way he had envisioned this going down but he would be lying if he said that whatever that was coming was a task he was reluctant to take on. His eyes stayed on your naked, glistening thighs like he’d been possessed. The room reeked of you, the pheromones of your arousal whispering sweet invitation to him, and Steve gathered every last shred of his self-control as he reached for a water bottle on the table with one hand and put the shield down to lean against the wall with the other.

“Hey, Ace,” Steve whispered. “You asked for me.”

You blinked at the sound of his voice and scooted to the edge of the bed, standing up. It could’ve been a hallucination conjured up by your feverish brain. And you could’ve hallucinated a lot worse than Steve stepping through the airlock of the room in the stealth suit of all things. But his voice sounded familiar – it echoed through your hazed state like a beacon in the night. You had been aching for him, for his touch, every last bit of your soul and body calling out for him. And he had heard. He had come to you.

“Are you here?” you whispered back, trying to make sense of it.

He hadn’t been there in the lab. There had been only Bucky, and Sam, and both had smelled wrong. Both had been wrong. You wanted just Steve; you had always wanted just him. Verona. Moonlight. Words that seemed to have no bearing to anything that was happening now when the only thing your throbbing blood was saying was Steve. You weren’t sure if you had been waiting for him for hours or for days or for centuries or for seconds, lying on the bed and floating in the half-delusional myriad of fantasies, touching yourself to the images of him but feeling no relief to the burning.

“I am, doll,” Steve said. “I’m yours if you want me. And only if you want me. The second you tell me to stop, I will.”

No. You absolutely weren’t going to do that. No chance in hell, when you finally had him.

Even in the small room, walking up to him seemed to take an eternity. His scent was faintly of musk and leather, mixed with something and something that might’ve been blood. It blended seamlessly into the deep, masculine note of the sandalwood-based cologne he always wore, blended with cedar and cypress and rosewood; a fresh forest smell that made your mouth water. In stealth suit, fresh from a mission. Shoulders accentuated by the uniform cut, wide chest above a flat stomach, strong thighs, large hands. He was the epitome of the masculine V shape, and he was yours. In the stealth suit.

By the time you reached him, you were barely able to hold yourself upright on your shaking legs. But Steve would’ve never let you fall. Before your legs could give underneath you, his free arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you close to rest against his body. The pleasantly cool, smooth Kevlar-like material of his suit felt like heaven against your body as you reached up to wrap your arms around his neck. He was looking at you, studying the fever burning in your eyes as you shivered upon the contact. Without letting go of you, he opened the water bottle.

“I need you to drink,” he murmured. “Your vitals said you’re dehydrated. You’ll need your strength.”

Obediently, you turned your head to the side and allowed him to lift the bottle to your lips. You hadn’t felt thirsty until you actually tasted the cool water Steve carefully held for you, but after the first sip, you greedily chugged the whole bottle. Steve’s eyes stayed fixated on your lips as you did, and he didn’t turn his gaze even as he put the empty bottle on the table and grabbed another.

“Still thirsty?” he asked.

The whole length of your body was pressed against his, and his thigh had slipped between yours to stabilize you further. Even through the fabric, he could feel against his palm how hot your skin was. You had come to him, out of your free will – as free as it could be under the influence of the aphrodisiac – and you were there, now, rising to your tiptoes and pressing your face against the crook of his neck before drawing a deep breath in. Just the scent and the presence of him seemed to calm you down, and maybe that meant he shouldn’t –

Your tongue licked a long, languid stripe over the side of Steve’s neck, tasting the salt of his skin and the musk that was simply Steve. As you did, your hips – the bare, soaking wet, burning apex of your thighs – rolled against his thigh, and the high whimper that left your mouth made every single thought empty from his head. He barely registered the drizzle of cool water that hit his cheek as the water bottle he had been holding had exploded in his flexing hand. As you lifted your head to look at him, not even noticing the water that had also hit you, Steve dropped the crushed remnants of the bottle and raised his hand to cup your cheek. Every single cell in his body was alight, painfully aware that you were still rocking yourself against his thigh, slight graceful movements of your hips chasing that delicious friction.

“Tell me you want me,” Steve whispered, looking into your eyes. “I need to hear it one more time. Tell me you want this.”

You looked into his eyes, and for a second, Steve felt like you saw everything, every single last fantasy he’d conjured in the darkness of his bedroom over the last few months, every thought of his that screamed how much he wanted this. But then, as his name left your lips in a desperate whimper that came combined with you pressing even tighter against his body, he realized that was all your lust. Heightened by the aphrodisiac but yours.

“Steve. I want you. I need you. Steve, please.”

His lips came down on yours, rough, greedy, claiming, and your body caught fire with that taste of his, that control and command that laced the kiss. Lust so violent that nothing you had felt during previous hours or ever in your life could compare slammed into you, crumbling into beautiful, empty whiteness everything except Steve. Your hands clawed on the suit, desperately trying to figure out how to get the damn thing off and have all that warm, masculine skin against yours. With his every single brain cell consumed by the kiss, Steve’s hand moved on muscle memory as he released the suit’s cleverly hidden clasps, the arm draped across your back never leaving its position. It was you, just you, your taste and your warmth and the delicious, tiny sounds you were breathing into the kiss as his mouth pressed against yours and his tongue ran over the pout lower lip he had stared more than he should’ve during all the meetings, his head running off with fantasies of just bending you over the damn briefing table and having his way.

His. You were his.

As the clasps opened, you yanked the suit almost violently down to bundle around Steve’s trim waist, and then finally, finally you could get your hands on all that muscle covered by silky skin. Had your lust-shorting brain had any remnant of control, you would’ve thought that it was almost ridiculous how he looked like a Greek god, how it was not possible for a human to be this chiseled artwork but frankly, you weren’t too concerned by that. He broke the kiss only to look at you, a large palm grabbing hold of your gown and yanking, and as the fabric gave like butter, he tossed it aside. It was his turn to get his hands everywhere, running over every curve of yours as you arched in his touch. Your hips rocked back and forth against the strong thigh between yours, and as he tensed the muscles, you whimpered. The fabric, smooth as it was, was almost too much in your overwired state and yet, you couldn’t imagine moving an inch as Steve’s dark gaze was fixed on your face.

“That’s my thigh, honey. Does that feel good?” he rasped, his hands moving to cup your butt for added stability as your own thighs trembled.

In response, you yanked his mouth down back on yours, delirious for the taste of him.  Steve’s skin was warm and you had an inkling it should’ve been feeling like it was overheating you even more but instead it seemed to help you concentrate onto something other than your burning. Every thought was emptying from your head as the coil was tightening in your belly, heat pooling down down down and sizzling with a promise of a climax that might finally bring at least a drop of relief. God, he smelled gorgeous. He was still fresh home from a mission, and there was that hint of pure peak of man in his scent that made you whine as you chased the peak.

“Steve… Feels so good…” you moaned to his lips.

“Good,” he said, pressing a kiss onto your jawline and ghosting his lips down to whisper straight into your ear. “I’m going to make you come for me until it’s all out. I’ve got you now, honey. Let me take care of you. Let me see you come undone.”

Coming on his thigh, with those words falling into your ear like dark warm sugar, had sometime in the past felt like a filthy fantasy, and it was filthy, but it was exactly the right kind of filthy. The climax, coaxed further by his words, struck like a lightning, finally giving you a hint of shade when you had been lying on the desert sand. It was nowhere near enough, and the moment you stopped trembling and opened your eyes, the heat was already creeping back up. You needed more.

Good thing that Steve was looking at you like he wanted to eat you alive.

I’m yours if you want me.

Keeping your eyes in his, still panting for air, you pressed your palm flat against the washboard of his stomach and slid your hand down, past the bundled suit on his waist, past the waistline of his boxers. Your fingers brushed tentatively over the base of his cock and then wrapped around it as you swallowed at the sensation of the size of him. He was burning hot in your hand and despite all his self-control that bordered on superhuman, he was breathing in ragged pants as your hand slowly caressed him.

“I need you,” you whispered.

And oh, he would give. The next thing you knew, you were being backed against the wall of the room as he tore the suit completely off and kicked his boots away, and then yes, all of him slamming you against the wall, all that glorious godlike physique yours to…

keep?

The thought circled somewhere around the edges of your scattered brain that was more concerned by the fact that you were being hauled up to the wall and his fingers were brushing up your thighs and –

“Oh fuck, honey,” he groaned as his calloused hand slid over your soaking wet core. “Oh jesus.”

All those times he’d fantasized about you. All those pictures he’d conjured in the darkness of his bedroom, all those ways he had imagined he would make you sing. All within his grasp. His lips were ghosting your ear, a gentle tug of teeth here and there and you both never wanted this to stop and needed it to stop because you wanted more, more, more, everything he could and wanted to give you. Steve’s voice was low and strained as he carefully slid a finger inside you:

“So wet for me,” he whispered. “So greedy.”

He was easily holding you up on the wall by one arm slipped under your butt as his other hand worked your core, the heel of his palm rubbing gently against your clit. Even as you were sensitive from the drug, it was a different kind of sensitive, something that made you whine and wither on his touch not out of discomfort but out of pleasure you hadn’t quite imagined possible. The chase for that primal satisfaction had you shameless; coming for him just minutes before had been a sip of cooling water but what raged inside you was a wildfire that had evaporated the relief almost as soon as the last wave had washed over you.

You needed more than his fingers. You needed to be full of him.

“Steve… Just fuck me, please.”

Steve Rogers was a strong man, but there was no possibility that he could’ve resisted the feverish plea that fell from your lips, you calling out to him, you asking to…  He wasn’t even thinking about resisting, no, the second the words had left your mouth he was shifting your weight in his hands.

“Don’t worry, doll, I said I’m yours,” he said, pressing a kiss to your lips. “I will. That’s what you asked me to do, didn’t you? To fuck you against the wall like this, with my cock deep inside you?”

You barely recalled the words, the message you had sent, and it mattered fuck all now that he was here, lining up to finally, finally, finally give you what you wanted.

“That was a question, doll,” he rasped, his forehead pressed against yours and sweat sprinkling on it from the effort of trying to maintain at least an inkling of composure.

“Yes. Yes. I need you. I need you to fuck me and I need you to come for me; I need you to come inside me.”

You were so needy for him that he slid inside the second he pushed against you but despite the wetness, despite the burning, it was still a sensation that made your head drop back against the wall as you adjusted to his size. God, yes. This sensation of being full of him, precisely him and not just anyone, had been something you had craved from the second the sweet vapor had floated into your system.

The feeling of you wrapped around his cock slammed into Steve’s brain, the force of the impact pushing out anything and everything except for the feral, primal animalistic need to keep doing precisely what he was doing. You were helplessly pressed between him and the wall, squeezing him, and with his hands full of your body and his ears full of your sweet moans, he was certain he was approaching some sort of ascension.

“Good girl,” his low, hoarse voice filled your ears like warm syrup. “You’re being so good for me.”

The feeling of your walls clenching even harder around his cock made him chuckle against the skin of your neck. He was throbbing inside you at the feeling, wanting this to last and wanting to chase the release he knew would be out of this world. You were burning hot in his hand, clawing at his back, incoherent at the feeling of him pressed against you and sheathed to the hilt inside you, his hips rocking with torturously slow pace that was pushing you towards the edge again.

“You like that, don’t you? You like me telling you how perfect you are for me, how well you’re taking my cock, doll?”

You were so close, so so so close again, and this time, it was going to be even better than it had been coming on his thigh. He had you, just like he always had you back on the field, that’s what you loved about him among many other things, the control, the command… And he had asked you a question. Before you could think, the words fell out of your mouth:

“Yes, Captain.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. In that second, someone poured a gallon of gasoline over Steve and threw a lit match to follow. Your words scorched every last cell in his body, the way his title rolled off your tongue making his head spin. His eyes flared into a blue inferno and his body slammed tighter against you as he lost his rhythm for a moment before stalling. You met his eyes and swallowed, because something had changed. Steve Rogers had dipped into Captain America, and you had seen that gaze of a hunting predator in his eyes on the field but had never imagined it in a context like this.

Truth be told, you had. But you had never imagined it would one day stare at you in the eye, his cock deep inside you. He had stopped, and you were barely coherent, swaying right there on the edge for him.

“Is that so, doll?” he chuckled, smiling like a shark that had smelled blood. “You want your captain to take the reins? You want to just focus on being a good girl and doing what you’re told?”

Your brain ways beyond being able to form anything resembling a sentence, you faced his gaze and nodded. You did trust him, from the bottom of your heart – you had known the moment you had started succumbing to this that if there was one person you trusted to get you out of this, it was Steve Rogers.

Your Captain.

The second your head moved in agreement, he slammed his mouth on yours, his hips moving to retreat almost completely out of you and then right back in with force that told you he had been holding back. And you wanted, needed, had to have everything of his. You buried your nails to his back as he ravaged you, his pace almost inhumanly fast but not for a second hurting. He would never. The climax that had been building itself up by coiling your entire body tighter and tighter was almost on the edge of snapping, almost almost almost –

“So fucking wet for me. So perfect for your captain. Come on my cock, honey. Let me have it.”

“STEVE!”

The fire that washed over you rivaled a supernova and you could feel your muscles clamp down on Steve’s cock almost desperately, and the combination of that and his name ripping from your throat in a desperate sob was too much for Steve, too. With one final thrust, he buried himself as deep inside you as he could and came, your core fluttering around him in a way that awakened some deep, deep hunger inside him. He knew how you felt now, he knew how his name sounded dripping from your lust-crazed lips, he knew how wet you were for him.

He was so utterly, utterly ruined.

During the momentary lapse back to reason, he ran a hand over your hot cheek, looking into your eyes. You both were breathing in gulps of air as Steve slowly slid you down the wall, sliding out of you and pulling you to him. His hands landed possessively over your hips, and you hummed in pleasure, positively drunk over the feeling of being his, completely unashamed of anything as he kissed you.

“You did so well, honey. So good for me. I’ve got you; we’ll get through this,” he murmured against your mouth.

He wasn’t done with you – not for himself, and not for you. Not by a long shot. He could feel the burning on your skin, and when he mouthed the pulse point on your neck, he could still tell that your heart was beating like a hummingbird. And the second your hand dived between your bodies and wrapped around his cock again, he was hard for you.

God bless the serum and the heightened testosterone that followed. Even as his plans for you sat firmly in the realm of unholy.

The second you touched him, his palm covered the nape of your neck, grabbing it firmly to make you look up to his eyes. The climax wasn’t the relief you had been hoping for, not yet, it was something worse and something better, a tease, a promise of eventual one but not yet, not before you would come for Steve again and again and again. As of now, you were burning, burning still. Burning for him.

“The bed. On your hands and knees,” he growled, and you obeyed.

Of course you did. When he said it like that, just like he did on missions, it was a sign that he had the control and you could trust him. It was alright. You could let go. You could forget everything and let him lead, and there was freedom in that. The surrender was a cherry on the top of the lust boiling in your body, and when you felt him kneel on the bed behind you, his large palms caressing over your thighs and hips, you shivered. He leaned over you, above you, and you could more sense than feel his broad shoulders shadowing you as he kissed the back of your neck. You were trembling in anticipation as you felt him position himself against you, almost pushing into you but not quite. Not yet.

“That’s a good girl,” he said, his voice a dark whisper on your neck. “So good at following orders.”

“Yes, Captain. Please, I need… Please.”

Steve chuckled, and his teeth carefully nibbed your shoulder before he talked again:

“Good girls get rewarded.”

Any chance of you forming a reply to the words was gone the second he pushed himself back inside you, and the angle had him brushing against every single perfect spot inside you. He was so deep, even deeper than he had been and you threw your head back in crazed whimper. He was still draped over your back, and his left hand slipped under your body, pulling you tighter against him.

“Up, honey,” he rasped into your ear.

It was more a warning than an order, because in the next second, he had shifted on the bed to sit on his heels, pulling you flush against his chest as you straddled his thighs. He was all hard muscle and musky masculinity behind and underneath you. He positioned an arm between your breasts so that you were almost caged in his grip, his palm spreading possessively over your collarbone as his breath tickled your ear. Instinctively, you moved in his lap, arching back and grabbing the back of his neck for support even as his arm held you in place with ease. His bicep felt impossibly wide as it pressed against your side but you were far more focused on the fact that he was deep enough in you that he was hitting places you weren’t aware had existed. You flexed your thighs to cradle his in between, and god, those thighs were like two tree-trunks. The curve of your butt was pressed against the washboard of his stomach, and you felt his free hand caress the side of your hip before it roamed to your inner thigh. He still wasn’t moving, even as you were slightly rocking yourself back and forth, his patience almost impossible.

“Easy, doll. We’ve got all night,” he said, but contrary to his words, he pressed two fingers to draw small circles over your clit as he finally, finally moved. “We’ve got as long as you need.”

“Steve…” you whined as he rolled his hips.

He moved his hips and your entire body with such ease that you could feel electricity crackling on your skin. It was this apex of a man buried deep inside you, this impossible demigod that was so under your spell that he was already panting against your neck.

“I’m right here, honey. Fuck, you’re so tight,” he said. “Squeezing me so good.”

His far too teasing fingers brushed over your clit in time of his rubbing thrusts, and you were being wound tighter and tighter, another climax already building inside you and the peak was building higher than you had ever felt it, preparing for the collapse that was as inevitable as it had been to end up right here.

“I’m yours.”

“Oh yes you are, doll. All mine. Looking so pretty on my cock.”

Steve was mouthing the side of your neck, grazing with his teeth until he found a spot that made you whimper and latched onto that, sucking firm enough to leave a mark. You pushed your hips forward against his fingers, trying to get more pressure, trying to get him to move faster. The second you did, he pulled you back tighter against himself, preventing you from moving on your own but continuing to move both of your bodies himself.

“You’re going to let me, doll,” he growled. “You wanted to let go. So let go. Relax. Let your captain take care of you.”

He brought his fingers up from between your legs to your lips and you let your jaw drop open without a thought at all to taste the salty, tangy combination of you and him. As your mouth closed around his fingers in wet, warm softness, Steve moaned a strained curse against the your shoulder and picked up the pace.

You were gone. You were floating somewhere beyond all reality, somewhere where the only thing that existed was the man behind you and inside you and the burning in your veins that craved. Him, this, anything he could and would give you.

The feeling of you sucking on his fingers and your soaked core trying to desperately keep him from retreating as he moved his hips, your muscles clenching around his cock, was beyond Steve’s wildest fantasies. He was beyond any conscious thought whatsoever, his brain focused only on thought of spending the rest of his life buried deep inside you, pulling a peak after peak after peak from you until you were all spent and all his. With a lewd, wet sound, he pulled his fingers out of your mouth despite your whiny protest and pressed them again at your core to continue touching you in sync with his movements. You were almost there, strung tight with desire in his lap, your core slick and burning around his cock. He mouthed a path from your neck to your earlobe and teased it with his teeth, his breath hot and filthy and dripping with sin in your ear as you whimpered.

“You’re going to come for me, love. You’re going to come for your captain,” he rasped, the authority unquestionable. “That’s an order.”

His words pushed you right over the edge, collapsing the mountain that had been rising from the sea within you and the earthquake that came did Steve in, too. You could hear him moan your name into your ear as he came, the feeling of you irresistible as you came undone for him. It was an explosion that scorched through you, a heat that consumed the previous burn that had been in you, swallowed it whole like an exploding supernova swallowed a galaxy. Whole, and without mercy. It sent you falling back into what felt like a cooling pool of water after you had been catching fire, after a whole day spent in the scorching sun.

The whiteness that came after was still and absolute for a second or two and then you felt Steve’s chest rumble behind your limp body, his cock still buried deep inside you and his hands holding you so close.

“Better?” he chuckled, leaning over your shoulder to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Yes,” you whispered.

It was. You were starting to feel like you weren’t going to spontaneously combust but even as it was the case, you were far from exhausted, and Steve chuckled again as he felt your core flutter around him.

“Not done?”

You shook your head and he retreated back, kissing your temple and then whispering into your ear:

“Good. Cause I’m far from being done with you, too.”

In the late night, you descended back into your body from somewhere between fever dream and consciousness to find yourself comfortable in bed. A shape like a warm rock wall was pressed against your back, and you were being held in strong arms: safe. So safe. At some point during the night, when you had been finally feeling like you could sleep, Steve had carried you to the shower and spent long minutes washing your body. And of course, you had returned the favor, and gotten a taste of him. And of course, Steve had been able to take only so much of you kneeling on the shower floor with his cock in between your plush lips before he had had to haul you up and slowly, almost languorously have you against the tiled wall. And of course, you had come for him one more time even as you had been forced to consider that the next climax might be the one to shut your brain off completely.

There were worse ways to go.

In the dark room, wrapped in satin sheets that would probably have to be burned after this, you stirred once more. A gentle breath tickled the back of your neck, and even half asleep, you felt your lust wake, heat pooling into the bottom of your stomach and tingling all over your skin. The past few hours seemed like a pleasant, hazy dream that still caressed your body.

More. More more more more.

The greediness of your hindbrain coaxed you back to life. You rocked your hips back against the man that was spooning you, and drowsily whispered his name, still unsure which part of you actually knew it was him.

“Steve.”

The answer to your whimper was a dark chuckle and a slightly sleepy kiss onto your earlobe.

“Right here, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Do you need me again?”

“Need you. Want you,” you whined, rocking your hips again, satisfied to feel that he was already hard.

Wanting you as much as you wanted him. One of the hands that held you slid down to grab your hips and roll you onto your back, and in the next second, he leaned over you to kiss you even as his hand slid down your stomach. Your renewed desire had you already wet for him again, and he groaned as he parted your folds to feel it.

“God, doll, how do you ever expect me to get enough of you when you feel like this?”

He positioned himself over you again, trailing slow, teasing kisses down your stomach as you tried to rock up to coax him on. His hands were roaming up and down your body, caressing your skin with the lightest of touches and stopping to squeeze every now and then.

“You don’t have to,” you whispered. “I’m yours.”

That lit a fire. Steve let out a harsh, ragged breath and moved down to sink his face in between your legs. There was no tentativeness to it this time, not after he’d spent the last twelve or so hours thoroughly exploring you, making note of every way you reacted to his touch. He knew what to do, and a proud shiver, like a predator shaking its fur dry, shot down his spine.

His. You were his.

He was absolutely merciless, his tongue never letting up even as your whimpers of his name grew louder with every movement. He was holding you down by your hipbones, your thighs resting on his shoulders, not letting you move an inch. The burning blue flames of his eyes looked at you as you writhed and whined and moaned his name for him, and a reminder of his eidetic memory crossed your mind. He would remember this, and the way he was looking at you, he was making sure that he would get every single detail. As he gently buried two fingers inside you, you were certain that you would’ve jumped on the bed had his arm not been firmly resting on top of your hips.

“I want to wake you up like this every day,” he whispered hoarsely, his head still in between your thighs. “I want the first thing you feel in the morning to be coming apart on my tongue, and I want to go out into the world with your sweet voice moaning my name echoing in my ears.”

Yes. Yes. Yes, please.

“Fuck, Steve…”

He cursed at the sensation of you clamping down on his fingers, desperate for the sensation of being full again because you were ruined, ruined, utterly ruined by him. There would not be going back from this, not after being loved and worshipped and fucked like this by someone who was closer to a god than a man.  

“Come for me, love,” he whispered against you, command and a plea at the same time.

What was there to do but obey as his fingers curled up, brushing against a sensitive spot inside you, and the endearment fell from Steve’s lips like a confession you had been waiting for?

The minute you returned to your senses, the self-satisfied chuckle that rumbled from between your legs gave you no other option than to beg for him to fill you? And with how wrapped around your finger he had already been for months, you could’ve asked Steve to fetch you the moon and the stars, and he would’ve obeyed without question. To sheathe himself inside you was certainly not a tall order, especially not with how you wrapped your limbs around him, trying to get him as close as possible.

It was love. It had to be, wrapped into the scarlet-red silks of lust as it now was.

When it finally settled down again, your voice hoarse from screaming his name into the dim room that was luckily very well soundproofed, he still wanted to hold you close. His fingers traced lazy patterns over your back.

“God, I should’ve said something in Verona,” he rasped into your hair as your warm weight rested against his chest. “About how much of an embarrassing crush I had on you.”

You shifted closer, soaking in the comfort of being cherished and wanted and protected like this, and when you smiled against his skin, you were already halfway back in a dream. It certainly was an unconventional beginning, and as the aphrodisiac was almost out of you, one sardonic part of your brain was wondering how you’d spin the beginning of this love story for the press. Which would certainly be foaming at the mouth when it found out two Avengers were dating.

“Maybe you should say that tomorrow, then,” you whispered.   

And that was exactly what he intended to do.

Next Chapter >>

[highonmarvel]

Isolation

Steve Rogers: Steve comes back.

An entry for Day 5 of the exciting @sintember challenge!

Prompt: Isolation, ft Steve Rogers (Captain America) of the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

Warnings: NON-CON, signs of declining mental health, captivity, 18+!

When Steve first put you in his basement, you nearly scoffed at the cliché: prisoner in the basement, like he couldn’t be bothered to be even slightly more creative. That was a few days ago, you think. You really had no way of telling. You remember screaming and banging on the door—you can still see the faint lines your nails scrapped onto it—but you can’t remember when that was. At first you counted a day as the next time you woke up, but you gave up, not because it’s obviously wildly inaccurate, but because you lost count of that, too.

You were hungrier than comfortable, but by no means starving, so maybe in that way it couldn’t have been too long, right? Without change, there is no time, and there has been no change in the basement since… however long it’s been. You couldn’t even rule out it had been months, though evidently ridiculous as that was considering your relative physical health (or, at least, as far as you can tell, or as far as you’re willing to believe), your sense of trust is out of balance.

Steve had been your best friend, you trusted him most, you never for a split moment thought he would hurt you. Steve, who’d you known all your life, time, as well, you’d known all your life: if you couldn’t trust Steve, could you trust your sense of time? You didn’t realise how much people rely on time, even when they have nothing important to attend to; time is the one constant, hours pass whether you want them to or not: you have no constant now.

You sit on the mattress (stained with a little blood you assume must be your own) hugging your knees to your chest, staring straight ahead. You weren’t going mad, you hadn’t had any hallucinations, had you?

Down here, there had only been the sounds you made—your breathing, your screaming, your crying—but your ears prick at an unfamiliar noise. It’s not unfamiliar, really, just one you haven’t heard in a while. Metal, not a lot, shifting around…

A key in a lock!

You scramble to stand up just as Steve pushes open the door, and your eyes lock immediately. You can’t help but notice even now he still has that superhero stance, his posture, standing tall and strong; assuring to everyone else, intimidating to you. But you refuse to allow yourself to be intimidated.

Steve doesn’t say anything as he begins his decent down the stairs; he looks away, but you stay fixated on him. When he reaches the floor, he turns to you with a smile.

No thought, you just sprint.

You dart towards the steps, but he easily scoops you up, and you’re bent over his shoulder, screaming as you hit your fists against his toned back and kick your legs uselessly in the air.

Another sound you hear, it sounds familiar, sounds like words being formed by a noise different to the one you make when you speak. It’s so bizarre to hear Steve speaking, so bizarre to hear anyone speaking but yourself after all (?) this time of hearing the same melody. It’s so bizarre, in fact, that you don’t really even register it, what he’s saying, until you’re dropped onto the mattress on the floor, falling quite a way (relative to what you would be used to hopping into bed) with a shriek.

“I’ve been alone, too,” he says, towering over you, blocking the single light that illuminates the basement, the light that hasn’t once turned off since you were thrown down here, it hasn’t even flickered.

He suddenly drops to his knees, straddling you. This position feels familiar, too; his knees caging you as you writhe under him in distress; it feels like the second time, now. It is the second time. And the first time this happened it ended with you being literally thrown into his basement. What would he do when he was done this time?

“Look…” he gently raises your right hand to his eyes, examines it, and then tilts it to display your nails to you; they’re bitten down so bad you’re bleeding, or maybe you’re bleeding from clawing at the door, either way, they’re damaged, fairly badly, and you stare back at your own fingers in shock. How could you not have noticed this?

“When you’re alone,” he says, gently, softly laying your hand back down to your side, “You hurt yourself. That’s why you need to stay with me.”

Right! You were at his place, as usual, and as you were falling asleep when he started, started speaking about how you needed to stay with him, because you needed him. Though while he violated you, he spewed the opposite.

“I need you…” he grunted.

You shake your head to rid yourself of the thoughts, but that memory seems to be replaying in front of your very eyes, a huge wave of déjà vu crashing over you as Steve strokes the side of your face. You slap his hand away, and that loving gaze he’d been showering you in turns dark. You try to throw a punch to his jaw but he catches your wrists and gives you a disapproving look. It’s extremely frustrating this seems to be so easy for him.

With nothing else to do, you start kicking and screaming; you’re sure it won’t accomplish anything, but you refuse to just roll over and accept this, no. You twist and turn under him until, to your surprise, he raises himself just high enough for you to turn all the way over. Before you can comprehend your little freedom, he brings his knees back down to the back of your own, and though it’s evident he’s not using all his weight, it’s still enough to make you cry out.

He lets his knees fall to the sides and manages to restrict your movements enough to tug your shorts down.

You want to scream No! but after all this time, you’re not sure if your voice can work to form actual words; you’ve only been screaming and sobbing for days. Or hours? Since he left, you haven’t spoken since he left, and you’re not sure if you can now.

You hear him spit in his hand and his soft groans as he strokes himself, and you��re lucky you can’t see it. You try to claw at his legs as you feel him line up with your entrance but he manages to pull your wrists together and shove them into your back.

He enters you slowly and with a soft groan, tears springing to your eyes as you sob, incoherent; you’re sure you’d plead with him to stop if you could. He ignores you and thrusts deep, in and out; you’re sure his careful movements may have looked loving and respectful to someone on the outside, yet it was anything but, despite what he’d have you believe.

“I need you…”

⍟

[wonderjanga]

Marvel and the Street Kids

Billy likes helping people. Especially people who have, and are still going through something he’s also experienced. Hunger, brokeness, homelessness, if you’ve had to go through any of those things, Billy’s probably going to favor you more than most of the other people he’s saved. I mean, after all, he knows what all of that feels like. It’s why he helps out around soup kitchens a lot. It’s why he donates a hefty bit of his paycheck to homeless shelters and charities. It’s why he works to keep drugs off the streets, and crime at a low. He doesn’t want anyone, man, woman, or child to experience what he has. So, here’s a couple instances where he’s helping some homeless kids we know. (Btw this is the same AU as the Billy and the Robins post. In that post, basically Billy knew Dick and Jason when the two were both Robins) Roy: *in Speedy costume* “Hey Robin, who do you go to whenever you need advice?”

Robin!Jason: *in Robin costume* “Batman, why?”

Roy: “Right, cool. Cool, but what if you can’t ask him a certain question?”

Robin!Jason: “Oh, then I go to Marvel!”

Roy: “Marvel? Like Captain Marvel?”

Robin!Jason: “Yeah!”

Roy: “Huh. Uh… okay then.”

Robin!Jason: “Why do you ask?”

Roy: “No reason.”

Then, a little bit after Oliver kicked Roy out, Marvel was in Star City because Green Arrow needed him for whatever. As of now, Roy was walking down the street, upset because obviously. It’s been an about three days since he was kicked out by someone he considered his dad. All because he had a wee little problem with painkillers, and wee little problem with heroin. You’re supposed to help people who’re addicted. Especially if they’re family. You don’t just kick them out… right?

Roy: *walking down the sidewalk*

Marvel: *flying when he sees him*

Roy: *not paying attention*

Marvel: *flies down in front of him*

Roy: *bumps into Marvel* “Hey, watch where you’re goooo…wha…?” *slowly looks up until he’s craning his neck to look up at him*

Marvel: “Aren’t you GA’s boy?” *looks confused* “What’re you doing out this late?”

Roy: “What?”

Marvel: “Yeah! You’re uh…” *snaps fingers a couple times, thinking* “Speedy. Right?”

Roy: “Do I know you…?” *looks Marvel up in down*

Marvel: “Oh, my bad.” *holds hand out for handshake* “I’m Captain Marvel. I don’t think we’ve properly met.”

Roy: *doesn’t shake hand* “Well you already know me. I’m Speedy.” *shrugs*

They both talk. Marvel gets Roy to open up a bit after he gets the kid a hotdog. While they’re both sitting on a bench eating their respective hotdogs, (I saw the Marvel in civvies post and he’s wearing that exact fit. He magicked up the red sweater, the yellow hat, and the jeans so they could eat in peace) the archer remembers his conversation with Jason. So, he decides he might as well bite the bullet since his friend hyped up the guy so much.

Roy: “Hey… I gotta ask something.”

Marvel: “Hm?” *mid chew*

Roy: “You wouldn’t happen to know any good struggle meals, would you?”

Marvel: *finishes hotdog* “Yeah? I do. You wanna learn some?”

Roy: *hasn’t told Marvel about him being homeless now* “Yeah.” *takes bite of his hotdog*

Marvel: “Okie doki then.”

Roy: “You aren’t gonna ask why?”

Marvel: “It’s not really my place. Unless you want me to ask?”

Roy: “Nah, not really.” *finishes his hotdog*

Marvel: “Then I won’t.” *stands up* “Alright! To the nearest Chuck E. Cheese!” *points in a random direction*

Roy: *also stands up, raising a brow at him. Moves Marvel’s arm in the correct direction* “Why are we going to a Chuck E. Cheese?”

Marvel: “You’ll see. Cmon!” *starts jogging in the direction Roy corrected him to*

Roy: “Dude, wait up!”

When they’re now outside the Chuck E. Cheese…

Marvel: “Alright. So, here’s what you’re gon— Are you good?”

Roy: *out of breath because they just ran about three blocks* “Yeah… Yeah. I’m good. Just uh— gimme a sec.”

Marvel: *gives him until he feels better*

Roy: *looking better now* “So, what were you saying?”

Marvel: “Right, so what you’re gonna be doing is, see those tables?” *gestures to the booths through the Chuck E. Cheese’s windows. Some booths have leftover pizza and chicken wings in them*

Roy: *nods head*

Marvel: “Okay, great. So you’re gonna go steal all of that.”

Roy: *blinks at him before the most befuddled, bamboozled, puzzled expression crosses his face* “What?”

Marvel: “You’re going. To steal. All of that.” *gestures to the tables again*

Roy: *looks between Marvel and the tables* “Dude, I am not stealing scraps from the fucking Chuck E. Cheese tables.”

Marvel: “How else do you expect to get food then?”

Roy: “I don’t know! I expected you to teach me some cheap recipes or something stupid like that!”

Marvel: “Oooooooh, so you don't want struggle meals then.”

Roy: “No, I do. A struggle meal is something like a ketchup sandwich. This is way worse than a goddamn struggle meal.”

Marvel: “You and I clearly have different definitions of a struggle meal, but okay. Also, chill with the cursing, man. I can teach you something cheap if that’s what you actually want.”

Roy: “Okay then, thank you, because the day I need to steal scraps from a Chuck E. Cheese, is the day I lose my dignity.”

Marvel: “Yeah, yeah, come on. Let’s just go to a grocery store.”

Then, there was Cassandra Cain. She was homeless for about nine years before she went to Gotham when she was seventeen. During her homelessness, she never really stayed in one place. One of the places she ended up in was Fawcett when she was about sixteen. There, she met Captain Marvel. She man saved her from a mugging she was about to take care of herself.

Marvel: *staring at her because Solomon’s whispering about how she’s worthy*

Cassandra: *staring right back, picking up confusion in the man’s body language*

Marvel: “What’s your name, miss?”

Cassandra: *stares blankly at him* (Guys, this is before she learned most stuff. So she has no idea what he’s saying and has to go off of body language alone.)

Marvel: *stares back* “Can… You not speak?”

Cassandra: *continues to stare blankly*

Marvel: *sighs* “I’ll take that as a no.” *reaches into pocket dimension*

Cassandra: *startled when she sees half the man’s arm disappear*

Marvel: *pulls out some money and puts it in one of her hands* “Please take this. I can tell you don’t have a home. Starving isn’t fun.”

Cassandra: *sees understanding in Marvel’s body language and looks at the money in her hand then back at Marvel*

Marvel: *hovering off the ground* “Stay safe, miss.” *gives her a little wave before flying off*

Cassandra: *watches him go*

They meet more times after that, and soon, Cassandra ends up being one of the many homeless kids he checks up on. Cassandra comes to enjoy the man’s presence, and Marvel comes to enjoy hers as well. She eventually gets a really good read on the man after a while and he gets a good read on her. She even mimicked the man’s bodily expressions sometimes with a nod here, or a shrug there. Marvel even got to learn her name after she gestured to one of the other kids who had a cast on their leg. He guessed a couple times before he got her actual name. They ended up having to charade it, Beetlejuice style.

Marvel: “Cassie?”

Cassandra: *makes a so-so motion with her hand* (something she picked up from the man) *makes a motion that was supposed to convey it was longer*

Marvel: “Longer…?” *pauses to think for a solid 20 seconds* “Cassandra?”

Cassandra: *gives him a thumbs up* (another gesture learned from him)

Marvel: “Wait that’s actually your name?” *body language shows he’s happy he got it right*

Cassandra: *blankly stares* (Again guys, she has no clue what he’s saying)

Marvel: “Oh, this is awesome!” *body language shows he gets happier. He starts yapping about stuff*

Cassandra: *listens even though it’s all gibberish to her*

Cass liked that she could depend on someone. The man was… sunny. That’s the best way to put it. She liked listening to him talk. He never expected an answer or response. She liked that. She also liked that when she did try to respond, he was patient and did his best to try and understand her. Their friendship (sort of father daughter thing) continued until she was almost seventeen, and soon, things came to an end.

Marvel: “You’re leaving?” *body language shows concern*

Cassandra: *saw him look to the backpack stuffed with things for the trip to the next town. she nods her head*

Marvel: *body language shows disappointment for a moment before acceptance* “I see.” *gives her a warm smile* “It was nice knowing you, Cassandra.” *gives her same little wave he gave her when they first met* “I hope we get to meet again.”

Cassandra: *waves back unlike the first time they met and leaves*

They actually met again, unbeknownst to Marvel, when he was in Gotham to help Bruce with something. They got paired up together to go and do something for the mission.

Marvel: “You know, you remind me of this girl I knew from a while ago.”

Cassandra: *silence and a stare because she knows he’s talking about herself*

Marvel: “Yeah, she would’ve done that same blank stare too.”

Cassandra: *wondering how he knows she’s pulling the same face as herself*

Some goons decided to interrupt them before she could figure that out.

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Cheshire behind the cut; Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good! (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Lynn stares blankly at him again. Billy lets him, like, process that one, because Lynn’s still really new to thinking for himself and also, like, new to everything, and just pretends to be busy putting the salmon on the plates with the vegetables as carefully as possible. He gives Tawky’s plate a little extra salmon, like–ratio-wise, he means. Like he gives Tawky more salmon than vegetables, he means. Tigers don’t need that many vegetables, ratio-wise. His and Lynn’s plates he makes a little more, like–evensies? Like, closer to the same amount of everything, he means. 

It doesn’t actually matter that he eats a balanced diet when he’s Captain Marvel–like, obviously–and he can’t afford to worry about “balanced” usually anyway, but he needs to set a good example for Lynn and all, and Batman did give them all these groceries and all that money, so . . . 

It’s a little weird, Billy thinks, looking down at their plates for a moment. He hasn’t–just, he hasn’t had a “normal” dinner in a while. 

A family dinner, he means.

Well–yeah. Obviously. He didn’t have a family ‘til Lynn needed one. Tawky’s the best, but Tawky’s his best friend, not, like . . . 

It’s different. That’s all. 

So he hasn’t had a family dinner since–the last time he had a family dinner. 

That was weeks before his parents were even dead, he remembers absently. He doesn’t even remember what they ate or talked about or . . . 

Billy stops looking at the plates and looks back to Lynn instead. He thinks about how he could share his powers with him, if Lynn wanted him to. 

It’ll work with anyone in his family, is the thing. He can just–do it, with anyone who’s his family. 

He just . . . didn’t have anyone who was, before. 

They settle down for dinner in the living room with Tawky and don’t really talk much. Lynn doesn’t seem to want to, and if he’s not overwhelmed yet–which Billy seriously doubts, going by everything they did and everything he remembers from every new foster home he ever got dumped in–Billy doesn’t wanna push him into getting there. He turns the TV on just to make sure Lynn won’t feel pressured to say anything or like he’s expecting him to say anything or anything like that. 

He doesn’t really know what to put on because it’s not like he watches TV anymore, really–like, just sometimes in random situations or whatever, not regularly or anything–and he doesn’t actually know what teenagers watch or if Lynn would even like what other teenagers watch, much less anything he’d pick, and on top of that he isn’t sure how the streaming stuff works even though Batman left a list of passwords and stuff. Like, he’s never used any of them, he means, and he knows Tawky hasn’t either. 

Probably Lynn also hasn’t, considering, but since he was at Kid Flash’s for a couple days . . . 

“Do you know how, um, Netflix works?” Billy asks skeptically, looking from the remote to the icons on the TV. “Like did Kid Flash have it or anything? Um–or Hulu, maybe?” 

“. . . he had Crunchyroll,” Lynn says, and Billy wrinkles his nose in confusion. 

“What’s that one?” he asks. Lynn just shrugs. Billy figures if Kid Flash had it Robin might too, though, so chances of Batman putting it in are at least, like, okay? He scrolls down the really weird and ridiculous amount of icons on the TV and makes a face as he does–why doesn’t it just turn on? Like, it’s a smart TV, he guesses? Couldn’t Batman have just gotten a normal one? That would’ve been less expensive anyway, right? 

Maybe it was on sale or something, but Billy is starting to suspect that Batman does not worry enough about things being on sale, or couponing. Like, seriously suspect. 

Ugh. That makes him feel kind of nauseous, actually, so he’s maybe just gonna try and not think about it right now. 

A few scrolls down Billy finds an orange icon with a weird white symbol that looks like a crescent moon inside another crescent moon and says “crunchyroll” across the bottom–no capitalization, he guesses?–and clicks on it. Then he checks the password list, makes another face at the string of random numbers and letters and symbols Batman used for the password and promises himself he’s gonna change them all to stuff that won’t take ten minutes to type. 

And like, probably cancel most of these subscriptions, because this list of passwords is so long. Just so, so long. 

Jeeeeesus, so long. 

“Oh, it’s anime!” he realizes in surprise as the actual service comes up. Huh. 

. . . it is so much anime. 

Billy is maybe feeling kind of overwhelmed here, compared to channel-surfing or just popping in a DVD. His parents only really had Netflix and it’s been so long he doesn’t even really remember what kind of stuff was on it. Mostly they watched movies on it, but this looks mostly like TV shows? 

“. . . was there anything you guys watched that you liked?” he asks, frowning at all the categories. And they’re weird ones, too–like, super freakin’ weird. “Children Avoid Getting Murdered” doesn’t really seem like . . . like a genre, he thinks? Like not really? 

. . . well, maybe it kinda is. But also maybe that category’s not really very good escapism, given, like–everything about their lives and all. And Lynn just got almost-murdered for the first time, so yeah, that seems like maybe a bad idea. 

. . . . . . “The Original Light Novel’s Name Was Way Too Long So the English Title Had to Be Changed in Order to Somewhat Fit the Character Limit”?

Streaming is so much weirder than he remembered. 

“No,” Lynn says. 

“Did you like anything else on TV?” Billy tries, hoping Kid Flash put on something that wasn’t Crunchyroll at some point. There’s, like, a lot of Crunchyroll, though, so he’s not really all that optimistic about his chances there. 

“No Signal,” Lynn says. Billy . . . blinks.

[moghedien]

obviously there are a bunch of issues with the MCU and I'm not gonna sit here and try to convince everyone that MCU movies are cinema or whatever so don't get what I'm gonna say twisted. I do find their kinda mainstay in cultural media and the dominance they had to be interesting, especially now in an era where the MCU is undeniably falling off and struggling. just as like a cultural analysis I find that interesting and everyone has their opinions of why it happened.

my opinion/theory on why the MCU just crashed is because they sort of forgot what it means to be telling a comic book story, especially a marvel comic book story. Because I've read thousands of issues of various marvel series at this point, across tons of different eras and events, and the thing that makes them last (which is also a thing that drives me personally crazy and I hate so much) is that the status quo doesn't really change. Or when it does, it lasts for a few arcs or years at most and then gets reverted back to the norm eventually. Like the fact that everything is pointless and nothing is a risk is something I loathe, but it is admittedly what keeps them going. If someone just got into comics, they can pick up a modern issue and expect to find Spider-man or Captain America or whoever. They may be introduced to new characters, but the big ones will show up eventually.

And after the last Avengers movie, like half of the mainstay cast are just gone. Which as someone who likes good stories, I think is a good opportunity (which is arguably being wasted but idk I haven't watched any MCU thing in years) to actually shake things up and develop characters that mainstream people are less familiar with and give them a chance to shine and tell interesting stories. But that's not why people like marvel comics.

People like marvel comics because if they want to read about Iron Man, they can pick up any random issue about Iron Man and it will most likely be the Iron Man they know. People like the status quo, and Marvel has never been high literature and has always basically been pulp storytelling, and it gave people status quo and familiarity. And I think Marvel Studios figured this out waaayyy too late.

Because if Marvel actually understood what people like about the comics, they would have embraced recasting major roles from the start. They wouldn't have tied characters' identities so strongly to their actors and would have made it clear that characters can and will continue on with different faces. There is no reason why Tony Stark needs to be RDJ or Steve Rogers needs to be Chris Evans. They would have had plans to not write these characters out of existance the second actors wanted to exit or died or were fired or any of the various reason why actors are no longer involved with the MCU. Hell they had precedent. They didn't have a problem replacing Terrence Howard with Don Cheadle, who are very different looking people who give very different performances, but we know why they felt ok with that recasting but won't recast any of their boys named Chris...

Anyway it seems like they realized that general audiences don't actually like change if its permanent and are learning the wrong lessons with the Doom casting nonsense and the fact that they seem to keep changing what the new story is to fit what they think audiences want.

I'm fine with the MCU dying off and its probably better for media that it does, but again I'm just kinda interested in the fumble from like an objective standpoint because it seemed like they just locked themselves into eventual failure in such a stupid way. Like they could have told the same safe representative Avengers storylines for decades and wouldn't have a meltdown every time an actor in a major role needed to be removed from production if they just accepted that people would be recast as needed. It would be worse for actors and it would be worse for movies in general probably, but it would have kept the MCU churning out pulp like the comics do to this day. But now people are realizing its not just pulp but pulp they don't want and its gonna kill the MCU eventually.