#Marvel civil war comic

[magickhajiit]

Sokovia and Spiders Chapter 4

All chapters

The first rays of sunlight reach the city, turning the sky a kaleidoscope of colours, a soft pink that merges into a warm orange, pushing away the deep blue that the night brought. Overhead pigeons are beginning to emerge, screeching black specks in the blue sky. From their vantage point, the city is a labyrinth beneath them, a wild urban maze of brick apartments, shiny skyscrapers, and shops. Streets and alleyways separate them.

Amongst it, there’s a small alley, a rusting fire escape nailed to one wall, and a stark bloody handprint stamped across the highest window, crimson contrasting against white. Peter had crawled through the window in the earliest hours of the morning, face wet from pained tears. Wincing as he crumples onto the wooden floorboards, half expecting the familiar sound of May racing to his door. Two months ago, she’d discovered his suit hanging in the wardrobe. After three years you would think I’d have found a better spot to hide it. Both of them were yet to settle into a life where his secret was out.

Lead legs manage to get him across his room, to where a red box pokes out from under his bed. His fingers tremble when he grips the handle, yanking it out into the open and ripping its lid off in a swift movement. There’s a couple of greying bandages, his old glasses, one lens chipped, and little packets of various tablets. The content of the box was more for bruises and scrapes than serious injuries but it would have to do. At least he’s never had to dig out a bullet. Knock on wood.

His medical knowledge was at best limited, which wasn’t ideal for a vigilante like him. Most of the things he’s picked up came from car crash shows involving road accidents and ten-minute YouTube clips. Fortunately, he was blessed with a sped-up healing factor. It’s not as effective as impenetrable skin, cough cough Luke Cage, but he makes it work. Digging through the supplies he finds a couple of scrap pieces of paper buried beneath, smudged sketches of suit ideas. For a while he had been debating adding extra robotic legs to the suit, even got to designing the schematics before he remembered he was a broke high school student.

Eventually, he finds some burn cream, the off the shelf type from the local shop but anything was better than nothing. As he found it the smell of burnt latex had begun to clog his synesis, the stench made worse with his heightened senses. Clearly, some of the suit had begun to melt away during the conflict, leaving his skin visible and vulnerable. Salt pricks at his eyes once more as he wriggles out of what remains of it cursing his idea to make it from skin-tight latex. When his hand brushes against the burn he can’t hold back the pained cry that echoes around his room. Aunt May can’t be heard so it was safe to assume she’d picked up some more late shifts. Just as well as the situation was bound to get worse before it could get better.

Finally, with the suit peeled off laying in a blue and red heap on the floor he can assess his injuries. Spinning around quickly, he tries to look over his appearance in one go, like how a band aide is ripped off. Instead, he reels back at his reflection. Whilst his chest is a mirage of purples and his left cheek prods out of his face, smushing his left eye in the process, it’s the burns that turn his stomach. Blisters already formed at the sharp edge of his collar, red and angry. They’re painful to see, agonizing to touch.

Stumbling over to the bathroom he manages to shuffle out of the rest of his clothes without incident. Dizziness grips him for a moment as he steps into the bathtub, one outstretched hand fumbling for the tap. He stumbles backwards when the first blast hits it, scorching his white skin a light pink and sending dark spots across his vision as it grazes his burns. He scrambles to twist the tap the other way, sighing when the waves of pain turn to relief.

He doesn’t bother with soap or shampoo, simply allowing plain water to strip away the filth and pain. Both arms braced against chipped tiling, his knuckles turn white as his hands form tight fists. Casting his eyes down, the water disappearing down the drain is tinged brown. His muscles begin to tremble under the frigid water but he stays until his burnt skin turns numb. Only then does he stumble out, feet skating across the wet flooring, droplets cascading down his back, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Having wrapped a towel around his waist, he squeezes a dollop of burn cream on his finger, massaging it into his reddened skin before he can hesitate, hissing as it makes contact. Leaving his phone perched on the sink he limps back into his room, bandages tucked under one arm. Still damp he collapses on his bed, wincing as something sharp prods his bruised ribs. Digging under the cover he yanks out the remote, clicking the on button in the process. Shielding his eyes from the onslaught of light, he spares a fleeting glance at the TV.

Blips of movement and dashes of colour flash across the small screen, vivid through the dust. As the imagery comes together Peter’s brain sluggishly catches up. There’s a man on the screen, his vast form squeezed behind a small desk. Rounded glasses perching halfway down a pig-like nose, they bounce up and down as each spittle-saturated word fires out of his mouth. Opposite him sits another man, goatee and hair cleanly cut, he’s grinning but in a way that says he’s uncomfortable with the company and trying to hide it. The other man is Tony Stark, decked out in a charcoal suit and tie rather than in red and gold.

Comparing the polished version against the ragged man he’d seen a few hours earlier, Peter misses the words they’re saying. Fortunately, there’s a banner below them, the words written boldly.

BREAKING NEWS- SHIELD INTERVIEWS KEY EYEWITNESSES IN THE HUNT FOR ILLEGAL VIGILANTE SPIDERMAN.

[espinosaurusrexex]

I just found out about this and now I’m gonna need five to ten business days to recover - thank you 🥹

via @idkwidowsgrimm on TikTok

[wingheadshellhead]

15 years later and still shaking crying throwing up whenever a writer does this

[artbyblastweave]

And the other thing about Civil War is that Captain America was just obviously textually correct. His argument was, "guys, you realize that if we concentrate the superheroic infrastructure under the United States Government you're looking at a purge followed by an authoritarian takeover of the government within two, three years tops, right?" And then within two, three years of the pro-reg side winning There Was In Fact A Purge Followed By An Attempted Authoritarian Takeover Of The Government, the thing he said was obviously gonna happen, happened. If Cap hadn't come back King-in-the-Mountain style for Siege there would One Billion Percent be one million street hawkers and Esty pages peddling "Rogers Was Right" shirts, his face would be stylized graffiti you'd see on every street corner, Cap paraphernalia would hold a charged valence adjacent to but not quite the same as a Guy Fawkes mask. In a world were he stays dead and we take the cultural worldbuilding of the MU seriously that might be a really interesting detail to integrate, actually

[youjustcantrefuse]

Captain America: Civil War, 2016

[stevetony-quotes]

[not-that-syndrigast]

I always think about Captain America. Steven Grant rogers, son of Irish immigrants, anti-fascist hero. Sam Wilson, first black American super hero, anti-fascist hero. Captain America, political figure for over 80 years, a sign of freedom and the true American spirit. Fighting discrimination of any kind. Captain America and decades of kids being raised to believe in compassion, peace and freedom. Sam Wilson Steve Rogers Captain America. The role model. The real American hero. The hero for the small man, for the small people. Captain America, the art figure, used when people alone couldn't do enough.

[ramen-flavored]

Ladies and Gentlemen,

Him

[marvel-television]

y'know it's always funny when people start arguing about who was right in civil war bc like. Even with just the movie Tony and the pro-accords crowd has no ideological leg to stand on, the only reason we have to at all root for him is that Bucky killed his parents, but then you throw in Agents of Shield? You throw in everything about that third season leading up to Civil War?

It's kinda painfully obvious that the sokovia accords weren't even *really* about the Avengers, but rather the incident in Lagos was just a convenient excuse to subjugate the growing Inhuman population under the guise of "cracking down on the avengers".

The only people we ever see affected by the sokovia accords are A: members of the Avengers, and B: Inhumans. If you're not an Inhuman or an Avenger, you straight up don't have to register. Spider-Man, Jessica Jones, Luke Cage, all are heroes that exist in the public eye. Sure, Spider-Man hasn't revealed his identity, but he's still known about as a superhero unlike Iron Fist or Cloak and Dagger.

All this to say, simply having powers doesn't mean you have to register, it's only if you're an Inhuman. The sokovia accords specifically, intentionally target Inhumans, and with that in mind there's not even a slight bit of moral ambiguity in Civil War, Tony is just completely clearly in the wrong.

That's not to say Steve gives a fuck about Inhumans either, he never even brings them up in the movie so he clearly doesn't, but he at the very least accidentally stumbled his way into the morally correct position. There's probably some kind of political commentary to be made there, but idk.

Point is, fuck team tony lmao

[going2hell4everythingbutbeingbi]

captain america civil war posts: "if you're team ironman you suck" *sounds of rioting from the notes*

batman v superman posts: "if you liked this movie you suck" *shouts of agreement from the notes*

[magickhajiit]

Sokovia and Spiders - Chapter 5

The bruising has faded to a murky yellow when he wakes up the next morning. The burns are still raw but white spots don’t dance across his vision when he moves his arm anymore. Small mercies. Fortunately, he’s not due in work for a couple of days, his co-workers are surely bored of hearing about him tumbling downstairs and running into open cupboard doors.  

A full week passes before he patrols next, partially because he was waiting for his injuries to heal and partially because calls for Spiderman’s arrest hadn’t quietened yet. It’s a strange feeling being public enemy number one again, it had been a couple of years. Swinging through New York’s streets even though his spidey sense stays quiet, he’s still half expecting Ms Marvel or Ironman to be hiding around each corner he turns.  

But the night stays calm. Or at least it does until a bullet wizzes past, flying so close that Peter’s not sure if it was meant to kill him or get his undivided attention. It worked if it was meant to do the latter. Spinning around, he sees a figure clad in red and black leather jump down to the street. A resounding crunch makes Peter wince as the other man lands like a sack of potatoes. He nearly loses his lunch when the figure stands up, one blood sodden bone poking out. It’s made worse when the man pauses it shove it back in place, before finally speaking, ‘’My name is Wade Wilson aka Deadpool aka The Merc with a mouth aka This Guy’s worst nightmare.’’ 

‘’Can I help you with something Mr Wilson’’ Peter knows the name Deadpool well despite, never previously having met him. He was a gun for hire, a certifiable lunatic, and a long time thorn in the side of the X-men. If the rumours about him prove to be true, Spiderman is in serious trouble. 

‘’Weird... How does he know my name? Word must be getting around about me.’’ 

‘’You're talking out loud.’’ 

‘’I am?’’ 

‘’Errr yes.’’ 

‘’Sorry I was meant to be breaking the fourth wall. I'll have to get that looked at.’’ He looks genuinely puzzled, at least as far as Peter can tell behind the red leather mask.  ‘’Anyhow, now the Superhuman Registration Act has been passed all heroes, vigilantes and generally any guy who can glow or shoot lasers out of their nipples needs to sign up with the ol’ United States Government or people like me are going to bring them to justice. That’s right readers I’m now working for the man. Or at least I will be as soon as I bring in this renegade.’’  

Without further ado he strikes. One hand rises to grab a blade before he slashes down, right as Peter makes his own move. Dropping to one knee he rolls forward, his shoulder digging painfully into the gravel before he leaps to his feet again. The metal continues streamlining through the air in a perfect arch, cutting through the air where Peter’s head had been thirty seconds earlier. ‘’They told me you had good reflexes, which is just great. I like a challenge.’’ 

His Spidey sense is blaring like a car alarm, loud and obnoxious as he stares at the man in front of him, half aware of the warmth sluggishly running down the side of his face. Numbly he reaches up, feeling where his mask has been ripped by his ear, his fingers come away crimson.  

‘’Alright, you’re a white male, around five foot seven. Is that a bit of brunette hair I see.‘’ He’s lowered his blade as he rattles on and Peter suddenly feel like he’s a mouse being played with by a cat. It’s a distressing thought that blocks out the realisation that a stone cold killer knows more about Spiderman’s identity in two minutes than all of New York has learnt in three years. ‘’I’ll have to put all of that into the system when I bring you in.’’ Whilst no one is trying to lob his head off Peter takes a moment to look over the weapon, still poised between them but having been lowered till it skims the floor. Shining dimly in the night it looks like something out of a movie, his stomach sinks when he notices his blood coating the tip. ‘’Can I ask how old are you?’’  

That question snaps him out of his panicked haze. ‘’None of your goddamn business.’’ 

‘’Have you not been listening this entire time, Spideyboy? This is my business. In fact, it’s my entire job. I guess it doesn’t matter. I’ll find out who you are as soon as I unmask you. ’’ 

‘’Unmask me? You- You just tried to kill me.’’ 

 ‘’Technically all I really did was nick your ear. But lethal force is allowed so long as the men in black suits or the media never find out.’’ Once again Deadpool swings, moving as Peter ducks out of range. Only this time there’s no let-up, the blade swings up and down like Deadpool’s dicing onions. Peter winces as he lands on his feet and left arm, suddenly remembering the pulled muscle not yet fixed from his fight with Ironman. He’s forced to move again before he can dwell on it.  

Since Deadpool has abandoned conversation, the night is quiet, at least for New York. The whistle of swords swinging through the air is half drowned out by the hum of faraway traffic and Peter’s own ragged breathing. Each move he makes is a resulting mixture of fast reflexes and his spidey sense, with no time for strategic planning. Automatically he throws out a web, once there’s a metres width between him and his assailant, when he feels it connect to the nearby lamp post he yanks hard. 

As his feet lift off the ground, Peter can see a flash of red out of the corner of his eye. Before two small knives skim past, the first hacks into his hip, tearing into soft tissue. Whilst the other flies past, slicing through the web like a knife through butter.  

The remaining web drifts to the ground. Peter falls too, but his landing is less delicate as he tumbles out of the air. Bracing for impact, he can feel his lip burst as he hits the floor, leaving a metallic taste in his mouth. A shadow is cast over he as he struggles to get air back into his bruised lungs. Groaning he looks up, only to see a red mask and white eyes staring back. ‘Well that was extremely embarrassing. For you I mean, not me.’’ 

‘’Wait if you wanted it bring me in shouldn’t I be given a chance to surrender.’’ 

‘’Oh shit. I totally forgot that part. Ok Spiderman do you take the US Government as your lawfully wedded. Wait. Sorry wrong lines. I’m getting married this weekend you see. Spiderman I’m placing you under arrest for breaching The Superhuman Registration Act. You have the right to remain silent. Everything you say... Yada, Yada, you get the gist. I’m going to need you to stand up with your arms out. Do you accept this arrest?’’ 

‘’Yeah.’’ Peter breaths out as he gingerly rises to his feet, one arm is held out whilst the other is clamped tightly on his thigh, blood leaking through his fingers.  

‘’Wow that was easy. And I’m going to allow you to do that, just because I can imagine the bounty is higher when the captive hasn’t bled out.’’ Deadpool’s tone has turned conversational, almost cheerful, like he’s discussing a bout of sunny weather. When he reaches behind him Peter flinches, expecting a knife to be jutting out of his ribs any second. Catching sight of that Deadpool raises his arms placatingly ‘’Just reaching into my fanny pack. No need to be so jumpy.’’ Only then does Peter notice he does indeed have a fanny pack, tied around his waist. Digging through it he turns his back, away from Peter.  Anticipation grips his muscles as Peter lowers his good arm, blindly feeling for the web shooters on his other wrist. Finding them, he pushes a fresh web canister into place, wincing at the clinking sound it makes.  

His arms are back in place by the time, Deadpool turns around again clutching a pair of high-tech cuffs. ‘’Wait you said there’s a bounty for me?’’ 

‘’Yep. Stark has personally offered money to whoever can bring you in. And let me tell you it’s a lot. I mean you fought off two avengers. You’re going to make me a very happy man tonight. That sounded a little weird. Especially whilst I’m holding the cuffs...’’ 

Bracing his feet apart he watches each step the mercenary takes, ‘’What are they planning on doing to me exactly?’’  

‘’Minister Fantastic himself has cooked up a prison for guys like you. It’s in the negative zone, which is by the way the shittiest place you can go. Don’t tell anyone I told you though. They’re still being very hush hush about it. I guess the writer wanted the readers to be shocked by the reveal or something.’’ 

Deadpool is nearly in place, he’s so close that Peter doesn’t even bother to pay attention to whatever non-sense he’s saying when he replies, ‘’Writer?’’ 

‘’You wouldn’t understand.’’  

‘’I guess I wouldn’t.’’ Without warning he launches himself toward the other man, leaping into the air and twisting. He bends as his feet meet the chest plate of Deadpool’s suit. With everything he has he pushes, his leg screaming as the muscles under the open wound strain. He flips himself into a graceful crouch whilst Deadpool lurches backward, sprawling out onto the road. In the background he can hear Deadpool swearing to himself. 

With no hesitation Peter starts to scale up the nearest wall to escape, déjà vu hitting him as he realises this was the second time in a week he’d run with his tail between his legs. A sigh of relief escapes when he reaches the rooftop without anymore blades or bullets flying. Flicking the button on his wrist, he cries out as the polyester hits the wound. It’s not what a doctor who wanted to keep their licence would suggest but at least he wouldn’t be trailing blood, for a murderous Gretal. 

He sets off into a sprint, once the wounds fully covered in the makeshift bandage. Leaping off the roof into the next alley, ice cold air whips past his face as he swings. He keeps it up for three blocks, swinging roof to roof. Eventually, he stops, crumpling down beside a grimy chimney. His chest heaves with each breath, blood and adrenaline coursing through his body as his heart threatens to beat out of his chest. 

There’s bitter metallic tang lingering in his mouth but the blood dripping from his ear finally stopped. Resting his head against the wall, his eyes drop closed. 

‘’Suprise.’’ Before he can move Peter’s head is smacked back into the wall, his vision fades to black before a hand roughly slaps him back to full consciousness. ‘’Did you really think I’d just let you get away like that. ‘’ Scrunching up the back of his mask, Deadpool yanks his head up. ‘’At the start this wasn’t anything personal. Just business. Now it’s personal.’’ As he talks blood saturated fingers dip below his chin, and struggle to grasp at the edge of Peter’s mask.  

Faintly Peter thinks he hears a clang in the distance. But Deadpool pulling his mask above his chin distracts him. Frantically, he manages to get one arm up, scratching at the offending hand but it’s quickly subdued, before being crushed to the floor by Deadpool’s boot, his web shooters contort before they pierce his skin. The world around him spins, the mercenary’s hold the only thing keeping him upright. Cold air rushes into his lungs as the mask is pulled above his nose. Deadpool suddenly pauses like he’s waiting to give a big reveal, ‘’Finally, the world gets to meet Spiderman.’’ 

[courseyoulovemeyoudontknowme]

X-Men Origins: Wolverine (2009, Gavin Hood)

03/08/2024

[burningfudge]

Iron Man/Captain America: Casualties of War (2007)

[tony-stark-ing]

Sad Tony cries in rain.

What if? Civil War issue #1

[artbyblastweave]

While I'm thinking about it, the thing about Civil War is that it's an event that conceptually makes total sense as something that would eventually happen in the Marvel Comics universe as it had been depicted up until that point, particularly in the early oughts- the center obviously was not gonna hold. The hammer eventually coming down is inevitable, the tension between the wild cowboy soap opera antics of the superheroes and the government trying to reign them was well-established by 2007.

The problem is that once you pull the trigger on it, you can basically never go back. You can never plausibly have Iron Man or Mr. Fantastic or Captain Marvel return to a working relationship with any of the antireg people ever again after they spend a year and change running the extradimensional virtual reality gulag for all of their colleagues who wouldn't kiss the ring. A bunch of people died and a couple of the less popular ones even stayed dead. It's the kind of thing that happens in a bad future that you have to send Kitty Pryde back in time to prevent because it would so obviously be an irreparable annihilation of the status quo were it to happen in the main timeline. And yet, after a few greater-scope threats and a reconciliatory whimper, to the status quo we inevitably return. Comic Books Babey

[allthosepeopleilovetofangirlover]

❤Steve Rogers Era Part : 3❤

Steve in his uniform🥹😍