Diamondback/Nightshade

Side blog for my Marvel/MCU self insert and self shipping stuff. I also reblog and post things related to my Marvel/MCU self insert (aesthetics, headcanons, musings, etc.). You may occasionally also see things related to my sister's and best friend's Marvel/MCU self inserts and self ships.

[dime-store-poisonivy]

My main blog: @cynical-sprite

Side blog for my Marvel/MCU self insert and self shipping stuff. I also reblog and post things related to my Marvel/MCU self insert (aesthetics, headcanons, musings, etc.). You may occasionally also see things related to my sister's and best friend's Marvel/MCU self inserts and self ships.

Information about my self insert & my sister's & bff's self inserts:

☠️Me- INFO HERE

🧠 @nekoemma95 / @mrsbarnesreynolds - INFO HERE

💫 @thisbarbieisafangirl / @directordefontaine - INFO HERE

[dime-store-poisonivy]

I'm obsessed with John getting a second chance at fatherhood with his s/o. Here's my/f!reader's camera roll - having a family with John Walker (Part 2, the second child)

[dime-store-poisonivy]

I'm obsessed with John getting a second chance at fatherhood with his s/o. Here's my/f!reader's camera roll - having a family with John Walker

[dime-store-poisonivy]

My/f!reader's camera roll - marrying John Walker

[steelpaperboats]

~ Marvel characters react to you stealing their clothes

Characters Included: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Helmut Zemo, Bob Reynolds, John Walker, Scott Lang, Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton, Nebula, Peter Quill

Rating: M

Word Count: 2264

Content Tags: cis female reader, reader described as smaller than partner, suggestive flirting, fem undergarments referenced, established relationship, suggestive

Steve Rogers

An undershirt on Steve becomes a dress on you, the white fabric pulled tight along your curves. The white tank top ends up curling near your mid-thigh like some kind of semi-sheer midi dress that will no doubt give your old-fashioned boyfriend something to fumble over. You take a personal interest in finding ways for him to suddenly become tongue-tied. 

It's certainly not public-friendly, but you don't have any plans on going out. No, you're happy curled up in bed, phone in hand, counting the seconds before your shared apartment livens up when Steve steps through the door. 

This place always feels more like home when he's home with you. He's already called you, rarely texts, to tell you he's on his way home. So you lie there, counting the seconds until you hear the telltale shuffle by the door, boots being placed in their spot, and shield deposited on its hooks along the wall. 

You bite your lip, toes curling in excitement as his footsteps sound on the old hardwoods. When he rounds the corner to your bedroom, blue eyes seeking you out, he pauses. You watch in real time as his brain short-circuits over the form-fitting fabric; along the way it hugs your chest, dark circles visible through the sheer white.

He swallows, "That my shirt?" 

You're unable to stop your grin, so you hide it away in the pillow as he walks over, fingertips starting at your ankle and working their way up along your thigh, higher still past your ribs, curling over the slope of your breast before he cups your jaw. "That's the face of trouble, I think." He teases, sinking to sit on the edge of the bed. 

Trying to avoid his amused, if heated, gaze, you hide your face further into the pillow before his grip on your jaw eases you gentle as a lamb to look at him. "Hope you know, sweetheart, that I'm never going to look at those shirts the same way again." 

Bucky Barnes

You're forced to fold up the sleeves several times over to get the red Henley to stop falling past your fingertips. That does nothing to help with the sheer size of it, the way his bulky shoulders and arms have stretched out the sleeves at the top and around the collar. In truth, you're a bit swamped in it, but you like the way that feels. 

He wore it yesterday, and it still smells like him, that low earthy scent and mechanical oil. It falls just below your ass, loose and billowing around you as you pad into the kitchen, knowing you'll find him there, coffee mug in hand, just like every morning. A creature of habit, your Bucky.

This isn't the first time you've stolen something from the dirty hamper, though his version of dirty is far different than yours. Bucky has a way of needing things to be clean, you know that, but for you this is comforting, not dirty. 

You pad into the kitchen, and just like you expect, he's there, coffee mug halfway to his lips, eyes caught on you as you round the corner, walking up to him. He's so distracted at the sight of your bare legs that you steal the mug entirely from him, taking a sip. The bitterness of the black coffee screws up your nose and pulls a lazy laugh from him. 

"S'little big, don't you think, honey?" He teases, glancing down at you, taking the mug back to set on the counter. You feel the cool metal of his hand slip beneath the oversized sweater to press against your hip.

"Now, Barnes," You trap your tongue between your teeth as you look up at him through your lashes, "What girl ever said that?" 

Helmut Zemo

As in all things, your man has sublime taste in clothing; everything he wears is well crafted and personally tailored and always leaves you tracking his every move. You think half the reason he always looks five minutes from a red carpet event is because of the way you drool when he walks into the room. 

He is an arrogant man certainly, but more importantly he is a man who appreciates an audience, even if that is an audience of one. You love this coat, smooth lambskin leather, bluish purple, with white fur along the collar, but your favorite part is the silk interior. Which is why you're walking around in it, accompanied only by a black lace bra and thong. 

It's heavy and warm along your skin as you spin in the living room, crystal champagne glass in hand. Helmut reclines on the chaise watching you; this time it's him that tracks every movement as you sway to the music sliding free of the record player in the corner of the room. The coat hangs lower on you than it does on him, almost touching the ground as you do another dramatic spin. 

He smiles, tumbler in hand, and tips his glass at you before he drinks. You approach, draping yourself dramatically over his lap as his small smile breaks into a full grin. He reaches out to twirl a strand of your hair between his fingers. "What a beauty you are." He murmurs, almost reverent. 

You roll your eyes, "It's your coat." 

"Ah," He taps your cheek, "You should know a good outfit is nothing without the right person in it." 

"I thought the clothing made the man." You joke.

"Weak men certainly." He huffs, "But you, beloved, you could look perfect in anything." 

Bob Reynolds

The fabric is soft beneath your fingers; Bob's robe hangs where it usually hangs when he's focused enough to hang it. You don't realize you're easing it from its spot until it's around your shoulders, long sleeves falling past your fingertips. It's immediately warm, and you can't help but tie it closed, to wrap yourself in a piece of him. 

To be wearing nothing but something he is so often found in. You walk from the bathroom, hair still dripping, nothing but the robe you've bundled yourself in, to find him in bed, legs pulled up close, TV playing on the wall some movie the two of you have seen a dozen times before. 

When he looks at you, he lets out a low breath, teeth coming to chew on his bottom lip. You worry for a moment that you've crossed a line; Bob can get defensive about his things. But then he settles, watching you come to sit on the edge of the bed; before you flop onto your back, the way the robe falls reveals how little, or nonexistent more like, the clothing you have on under it is. 

He makes this little sound that might be an oh before he's leaning above you, dark curls haloing his face, "You, uh, you comfortable?" 

You look up at him, at the depth of his dark grey-blue eyes. "Yeah. You don't mind?" 

He shakes his head, "No, no, I think ... it's you, so it's okay. It looks," He's getting redder with each word, "Good." 

John Walker

Summer is shaping up to be a hot one, with windows thrown open in your apartment to get a breeze and fans going throughout your unit. It's too damn hot for clothing, so you've taken to wearing a sports bra and have commandeered a pair of John's boxers in lieu of shorts. They're comfortable, made of light fabric, and good for counteracting the heat. 

At least that was your initial thought; now that you can see the way John is looking at you, all curled muscle and dark eyes, you think perhaps you might not be beating the heat but adding to it. He swallows, Adam's apple bobbing, but doesn't say a word, only hits you with that long stare that makes electricity spark down your spine. 

"It's hot." You defend with a lazy shrug, lifting your arms over your head in a long cat-like stretch. The stretch is unnecessary, and you are absolutely milking the attention, but you can't help yourself. 

John grunts, "Right." He draws the word out beneath his teeth, tasting it on his tongue as he steps forward. His fingers find the loose waistband, still a little baggy on you, thumbs dipping beneath the waistband to find out if there's anything underneath. 

There isn't. You smile up at him, looking through your eyelashes. He returns your stare with his own, and the fire that is lit inside you has absolutely nothing to do with the heat. 

Scott Lang

Scott has a habit of leaving various clothing around your apartment; it's not that he's dirty so much as he's forgetful. There's always ten thousand things going on in his head at any given time, and so you forgive him his confetti of clustered clothing around the place. Actually, maybe you benefit from it a little as you pluck up an oversized hoodie, slipping it over your head. 

You roll up the sleeves, humming to yourself as you go about setting up an evening of watching a movie while he's off being a tiny or very large Avenger. The hoodie helps with the missing, hood up, burrowed deep in it, TV playing something you've seen a dozen times before. 

When the front door opens, you're half asleep, lost between a mix of listening to your movie and letting your eyes drift closed on the scenes you don't care that much for. By the time you manage to crack your eyes open to see what's going on, Scott is already on the couch beside you, legs kicked up on the coffee table, his arm wrapping around your shoulders to pull you in. 

You nuzzle closer without needing to be asked. He kisses your head, nose in your hair. You can hear the smile in his voice: "I thought I was the thief." 

"Nah, I'm a mastermind." You mumble sleepily. 

"You did steal my heart." He replies easily, huffing out a chuckle into your hair. 

"That's so cheesy!" You laugh, smiling into his shirt.

Wanda Maximoff

You'll be the first one to admit that Wanda looks good in just about anything; she could make a paper bag look purposeful. So you'll also be the first to admit that her wardrobe is worth 'borrowing' from. The two of you are going out tonight, and you can't help flipping through her clothing, settling on a sexy red number you've seen her wear a few times before. 

Pulling it off the rack, you hold it out. "Hello, beautiful." You mutter to yourself before letting the towel slip to the floor. It takes some work to find the right things to go under, to fix up your hair, and to make yourself presentable. The red heels you go with make you smile because you know how much she loves this pair. 

By the time you're all dolled up, you're excited for her to get home, to see your hard work, and when she slips into the bedroom with you sitting on the edge of the bed and an old episode of Are You Being Served being played in the background, she smiles. Not that little smile she keeps for things she's uncertain about, but something wider, something genuine. 

"Well," She presses her hands to her hips, "Honey, I'm home." 

You laugh, slipping off the bed to walk over to her, doing a spin on the way. She meets you with a kiss, soft and lingering. "You know, I have half a mind to let you keep that dress." She looks down, eyes catching on your heels before she gives a lazy Cheshire shrug. "Or take it off." 

Clint Barton

It's freezing in here, and your tank top is not going to cut it. With a shiver you spot Clint's plaid button-up draped forgotten over his chair in the meeting room. It would be a shame to let it sit there and be wasted, especially when his girl may very well freeze to death at any moment. So you grab it, slipping the thick fabric over your shoulders, letting out a breath of relief when the cold finally becomes less abrasive. 

It's too large to wear normally, so you leave several of the bottom buttons undone and tie it into a knot at the bottom around your hips. You like the way it feels, secure around you as you wander down the hall to find Clint on one of the upper landings looking down at the others. 

You plop down next to him, letting your legs hang next to his and rest your shoulder against his. He, unlike you, seems unbothered by the cold, bare arms exposed to the freezing tower. He looks over at you, eyeing the shirt before he grins. "Careful, sunshine, people will talk." 

"Oh yeah?" You roll your eyes. "What will they say?" 

Clint leans in to whisper, though his whispers are never quite low enough to be considered whispers these days. "That I scored out of my league." 

You whisper back conspiratorially, "Disability perk." And revel in the way he laughs. 

Nebula

You can't find your vest; you've looked everywhere, not that the Milano is particularly known for being all that clean or organized, and people are constantly stealing things from each other, but that's beside the point. The point is you can't find it, and you need a vest, and so you risk life and limb or the time of your life borrowing one of Nebula's spares. 

It fits well, actually a little tighter than it fits on her thin frame. Gamora takes one look at you, grunts out what sounds like it might be 'good luck,' and leaves you alone as Nebula rounds the corner. She freezes, like a hard stop, and you wonder if she's having some kind of problem with her circuits before she abruptly keeps going. 

"You are wearing my vest." A fact, sharp to the point. 

"I am." You confirm lifting an eyebrow as you wait for her to do whatever she's going to do. 

Nebula walks right up to you, inches from your face, and you really don't know if she's going to kiss you or hit you, and really that's why you like her so much in the first place. "It's yours now." 

You frown. "After last night I didn't think you were worried about my cooties." 

"Cooties." She pauses, dissects the word before she remembers what it means, "No. I want you to wear it again." And then she walks off, leaving you reeling, before you're chasing after her once again. 

Peter Quill

If there's anything you like about Peter, it's his extensively human wardrobe. You're not even sure where he finds some of this stuff, and you're almost positive he has his own Starlord merch made to wear. That's what you find yourself in now, a baggy Starlord t-shirt with some dude and a guitar on the front and his logo on the back. 

It's soft on your skin as you lounge in bed on your stomach. You're flipping through one of his other collections—he has many. This one is earth magazines. You've watched him trade all sorts of stuff, particularly valuable stuff sometimes, for Earth relics. 

The door to his room swishes open, and then, like clockwork, his rolling tone follows, "Hello~ gorgeous."

You look back at him. "Who, me?" 

Peter, without missing a beat, pivots to look at himself in the mirror, running a hand through his hair, "No me, obviously." 

You toss a pillow at him, which he catches with one hand, the other coming to his chest like you've mortally wounded him. He launches himself onto the bed, bouncing the mattress as he settles down next to you. "What are we reading?" 

You cover his eyes with a hand. "Only ugly people get to read, sorry." 

He immediately reaches out and snags the magazine and launches it behind him, "No reading for you then!" 

[dime-store-poisonivy]

@mrsbarnesreynolds

[dime-store-poisonivy]

We're a couple of idiots, lol😆

[keeryspullman]

Dating John Walker Headcanons

★ John doesn’t want you to see just how much he loves you. Saying would make it real. If it’s not real, he can’t ruin it. So, he keeps you at a distance. And he makes sure that no one knows about your relationship other than you and him.

★ He keeps his distance in public, but in private, he can’t keep his hands off you. John has big hands and he knows exactly how to use them. Whether that’s gripping your thighs as he makes you squirm with his tongue or holding your waist as you make out.

★ John is desperate to make you laugh. But it never happens in the way he intends. You always end up laughing at him instead of with him. In your defense, he can’t crack a joke that’s funny to anyone other than him. After a while, he doesn’t mind that you’re laughing at him as long as he gets to hear the sound of your laugh.

★ You don’t hear as much about his time in the military as you thought you would. It’s obvious that he isn’t proud of the things he did in the name of his country. Sometimes he’ll mention things that happened on base with Lemar or something he tried when he was stationed in an unfamiliar country but he never brings up the reason why he was there.

★ But, you do hear about sports. Constantly. Whether you’re interested or not. His favorite sport is obviously football. John doesn’t just keep up with the NFL, he keeps up with college football too. If he misses a game, you’re guaranteed to catch him looking up the score and highlights on his phone. His favorite stories to tell are about his days playing high school and college football. John was a varsity player and he never lets anyone forget it.

★ John loves cooking and baking for you. It’s always been the way he calms himself. He can focus his mind on a recipe and get away from all the other thoughts that won’t stop hounding him. You weren’t expecting him to be as good at it as he is. He’s the best at making classic Southern dishes. They’re what he grew up eating and helping his family make on special occasions.

★ When you tease him about caring about you, he laughs it off and denies it. You both know he does, but neither of you will really say it. At first, bothered you that he wouldn’t let you in. That he wouldn’t say, “I love you”. As time has gone on, you’ve learned that he’s better at showing it. You prefer it that way now. John’s not the best with words. He finds himself saying the wrong thing or not really thinking things through before he speaks. He’s learned how to show what he can’t say through what he does. Every choice he makes is an attempt to do the right thing, to be the best man he can be for you. Maybe, one day he’ll be the man he thinks you deserve.

Inbox | Request Guidelines | Masterlist

A/N: I didn't expect to love writing for John as much as I do! I have so many ideas for him already so let me know if you want me to write more about him.

[dime-store-poisonivy]

The Thunderbolts are actual menaces sometimes, lol 😆

[mrsducky]

THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER 2021, 1.04 "The Whole World Is Watching"

[dime-store-poisonivy]

Here is an information sheet for me/my self insert in the Marvel/MCU universe

Name: Rebecca Landahl

Alias(es): Diamondback, Nightshade

Powers/Abilities:

A bioluminescent, poison-based mutant whose glowing veins and living toxin make her both breathtaking and dangerous, every emotion threatening to turn her body into a weapon.

Poison Generation- create/generate a variety of poisons

Poison Touch- generate poison from her skin that she can transfer through skin-to-skin contact, can excrete highly corrosive venom through her pores, skin contact can paralyze or chemically burn

Poisonous Breath/Spit- has venom glands in the back of her throat that can generate poison and release them from her mouth; she can spit concentrated toxin blasts (range weapon), a focused stream (spit), or short-range mist or breath cloud.

Can alter venom type: paralytic, hallucinogenic, acidic, necrotic

Partial immunity to poisons and toxins

Core Color & Aesthetic

Primary color: toxic bioluminescent green

Texture: semi-liquid, viscous, almost alive

Energy feel: less “energy blast,” more biochemical reaction

Her powers don’t look clean or cosmic; they look organic, dangerous, and reactive, like her body is constantly on the edge of turning the environment against itself.

Glowing Veins (Signature Visual)

Veins glow green beneath the skin when powers activate. It starts subtle, then spreads with intensity. It is a soft pulse at low levels and a sharp flicker when unstable.

Visual progression: The glow acts like a visual heartbeat of her control. If it’s steady, she’s in control. If it spikes, something’s about to go wrong

Poison Generation (External Manifestation)

From Skin / Pores: Appears as a thin sheen or mist at low levels. At higher output, visible droplets form and drip.

Throat-Based Mutation (Spit/Breath Weapon)

Her most unique visual/biological trait. Internal cues: Subtle glow may rise into the base of her throat, Neck veins faintly illuminate when pressure builds.

When activated: Poison is expelled as a focused stream (spit) or short-range mist or breath cloud.

Visual qualities: Dense, green vapor or liquid spray, a slight shimmer like heated chemical gas, the air around it distorts subtly (toxic density)

It feels less like “fire breath” and more like weaponized respiration.

Environmental Interaction

Her powers always affect the world around her:

Metal corrodes, hisses, warps

Concrete stains, smokes, weakens

Air has slight green haze when toxin lingers

Surfaces are left with burn-like residue patterns

Even when she’s not trying to be destructive, her presence can feel hazardous.

Loss of Control State

When she’s overwhelmed, her veins glow bright neon green and spread visibly up her neck and possibly across her face. Toxin leaks from hands, pores, and/or breath.

Visual effect: She looks almost radioactive or biohazardous. The environment around her sometimes actively deteriorates. This is the closest she comes to appearing like a “monster” in her own eyes.

Overall Visual Theme

Rebecca’s powers feel like:

A living toxin system

A weaponized body

A constant balance between control and catastrophe

Teen Years

Her powers manifested violently during bullying at school, and she accidentally harms the bully and others. She runs away, hunted and terrified, and is found by Logan/Wolverine and Jean Grey, who were sent by Professor Xavier to find her and offer to take her to The Xavier Institute.

X-Men Era

At first, she was unable to control her powers; if anyone touched her skin to skin, they would be poisoned. She trained to control her abilities, and, with the X Men's help, she eventually learned to control it. She formed close bonds with Jean as a mentor/older sister figure and Logan as mentor/father figure. At some point, when Gambit and Rogue were separated, Gambit and Rebecca got together. Eventually, though, he ended up getting back with Rogue, leaving Rebecca heartbroken. After Remy and Rebecca broke up, she left the mansion to go on her own for a while.

Vigilante Phase

She operated alone, targeting criminals with lethal force. She believed punishment was necessary. This was her “almost became the monster” phase.

Avengers Influence

Eventually, she ended up working with the original Avengers on more than one occasion and learned restraint and responsibility. She was especially influenced by Steve Rogers, who reinforced morality and reminded her of the importance of it, and Natasha Romanoff, who taught her that everyone deserves a chance at redemption. She still believes some people deserve death but no longer believes she should be the one to decide or carry it out. At some point, she and Bucky Barnes got together.

Falcon and the Winter Soldier Era

During the events of Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Bucky and Rebecca broke up romantically, but still remain close friends. She breaks up with Bucky Barnes over ideological disagreement, not lack of care; they separate because Rebecca believes that Sam and Bucky are being unreasonable toward John and Lemar Hoskins. She supports pragmatic cooperation with Walker’s team, but Bucky prioritizes principle and distrust of Walker. They end things respectfully and remain close friends.

She initially supports John Walker because she sympathizes with his pressure, grief, and unfair treatment and opposes the harsh judgment of Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes. Eventually, she develops an unspoken crush on John Walker, though she does NOT act on it due to his marriage to Olivia and her moral boundaries.

Rebecca is the first to follow John after he kills the Flag Smasher. She attempts to talk to him, stabilize him emotionally before Sam and Bucky arrive, acting as a grounding force while he is unstable and under the serum's influence, but Sam and Bucky arrive and the fight ensues.

Thunderbolts Era

Eventually, Rebecca was recruited into The Thunderbolts/New Avengers. It's not until this point, years later, after John is already divorced, that she and John end up becoming a romantic couple.

Why She Joins the Thunderbolts

Not because she agrees with Val, but because she believes: "If l'm going to be dangerous, I should point it at worse people."

But Val quietly studies her emotional triggers because anger makes Rebecca more powerful.

[dime-store-poisonivy]

Here is an information sheet for my sister @nekoemma95 , @mrsbarnesreynolds /her self insert in the Marvel/MCU universe

Name: Emily Landahl

Alias(es): Psylocke, Solace

Emily Landahl is a mutant empath and psionic defender who can sense, influence, and stabilize emotions, using purple psionic energy constructs primarily for protection. She is the softer, emotionally intelligent counterbalance to her older sister Rebecca’s more aggressive, toxic-powered fighting style.

She operates across the X-Men, Avengers, and Thunderbolts spheres, but always in a support and emotional anchor role rather than frontline destruction.

Powers/Abilities:

Emily is a mutant who can sense, influence, and regulate others’ emotions while generating psionic energy constructs, primarily used for defense, protection, and stabilizing chaotic situations.

Psionics: The power to use mental/psychic-based powers

Emotional Energy Manipulation- Manipulate emotional energy

Intuitive Empathy- intuitively sense energy from other people to the extent of absorbing it into their own body and feel the same intense emotions

Psychic Constructs;

Empathic Constructs- change emotions/empathic energy into different forms and objects of varying detail and permanence

Force-Field Generation- project fields of manipulated energy

Psionic Strike/Psionic Enhanced Strike- can use psychic energy to power a strike (punch, kick, headbutt, etc.).

Psionic Healing- heal others using psychic energy

Power Visuals

Emily’s abilities manifest as soft, glowing violet psionic energy; flowing, protective, and subtly shaped by butterfly-like motion that feels calm, controlled, and emotionally connected, not aggressive or chaotic.

Aura: Soft purple aura with faint wing-like ripples in motion only visible in certain lighting or high-focus moments. It moves gently, like air displaced by wings rather than actual shapes.

Core Visual Elements

Color: Shades of violet and lavender

Aura: Smooth, faintly glowing purple energy surrounding her body

Eyes: Glow violet when powers are active, intensity reflects effort, when she’s deeply focused, the glow softly pulses outward, almost like wings opening and closing

Energy Texture: Fluid, weightless, almost like light moving through water

Constructs

Translucent purple shields and barriers that are rounded, flowing shapes, never sharp or jagged, with subtle internal patterns resembling wing-like veins. They are designed for protection, restraint, and stabilization, not destruction.

Energy Behavior

It moves in gentle, curved motions, like drifting air currents. It reacts to her emotional state:

Calm: soft, steady glow

Focused: deeper, more defined violet

Overwhelmed: brighter, flickering energy

Subtle Butterfly Motif

It appears as brief, faint butterfly-shaped flickers during emotional peaks, wing-like ripples in her aura or constructs, and light movements that resemble fluttering.

Teen Years

Emily grew up bullied, similar to Rebecca. The first manifestation of powers accidentally amplified emotional chaos in her bullies, terrifying her. She was recruited into the X-Men by Storm and Nightcrawler, who had been sent by Professor Xavier to find her and offer to take her to the Xavier Institute.

X-Men Era

Emily developed a close bond with Storm, who guided her as a mother/sister figure of stability and strength. She also developed a close friendship with Nightcrawler, including a brief, innocent crush she later outgrew due to age difference. At first, she couldn’t control her empathic abilities, involuntarily feeling everyone's emotions at once. But, she trained under the guidance of the X-Men and eventually learned to control her abilities.

Avengers Ally

She stayed living at the mansion because she felt safest there, even when her sister left to go solo, but, like her, she ended up working with the original Avengers on more than one occasion. She also met Bucky Barnes during this time.

Thunderbolts Era

Eventually, with her sister, Rebecca, she was recruited into the Thunderbolts/New Avengers. She becomes romantic partners with either Bucky Barnes or Bob Reynolds.

Why Emily Joined the Thunderbolts

Simple: She wouldn’t let Rebecca go alone.

But also, she believes that even morally gray teams can save lives and that everyone deserves a chance at redemption.

[dime-store-poisonivy]

Here is an information sheet for my best friend @thisbarbieisafangirl , @directordefontaine /her self insert in the Marvel/MCU universe

Name: Sylvia Bell

Alias(es): Captain Marvel, Nova, Binary

Powers/Abilities:

Bio-Cosmic Generation- can generate cosmic energy/substances, allowing for constructs, attacks, etc. The activation of her latent X Gene by cosmic radiation granted her the ability to generate cosmic energy, which she can utilize in different ways. Sylvia’s body is essentially a living cosmic reactor. She doesn’t just absorb energy, she generates it internally, meaning she rarely “runs out,” but overuse causes instability, overheating, or loss of control

This makes her not just powerful but self-sustaining and dangerous under pressure.

She produces raw cosmic energy/substance from within her body.

Applications: Constructs (weapons, shields, platforms), Energy coating on limbs for melee combat, Environmental manipulation (burning, destabilizing surfaces)

Combat Identity: She fights like a cosmic weapons platform.

Cosmic Aura (Passive + Active Defense)- can surround herself in cosmic energy. A voluntarily activated energy field surrounding her body. It deflects bullets, missiles, and debris, absorbs and redirects kinetic force and can bounce attacks back toward enemies, and reduces physical damage significantly

Visual: Glowing orange aura with flickering galaxy textures, Light distortion effect around her body, Eyes glow bright when fully active

Key Detail: When she’s calm, the aura is somewhat subtle. When she’s angry, the aura flares violently.

Cosmic Pressure/Mass Cosmic Field/Crushing Cosmic Energy- She generates dense cosmic energy fields that exert extreme pressure. This is her heaviest hitting ability.

Uses: Crush enemies or objects, Pin targets to the ground, Create shockwaves that repel everything outward, Area denial (no one can move inside the field)

Advanced Use: Can paralyze targets by overwhelming their nervous system with pressure

Visual: Air visibly compresses, Orange glow intensifies into almost molten-galaxy texture, The ground cracks, objects warp

MCU Impact Level: On a small scale, it can crush a vehicle. On a large scale, it can devastate sections of a battlefield

Cosmic Wave Emission/Cosmic Blast: Concussive Blast- The ability to release waves of cosmic energy in the form of concussive blasts. It is her most commonly used attack.

Types: Focused beams (precision strikes), Wide shockwaves (crowd control), Rapid-fire bursts (combat pressure)

Effect: Pure concussive force + cosmic burn, Sends enemies flying or disintegrates weaker targets

Visual: Bright orange energy blasts with subtle cosmic streaks, Leaves glowing trails in air

Cosmic Energy Enhancement- She channels cosmic energy inward to boost herself.

Enhancements: Super strength, Enhanced speed and reflexes, Increased durability, Amplified combat endurance

Combat Style Change: Without enhancement- ranged fighter, With enhancement- close-combat powerhouse

Visual Identity

Her powers are distinct from typical blue/purple cosmic visuals.

Signature Look:

Primary color: Burning orange

Secondary: Subtle galaxy shimmer (purple/blue specks inside the glow)

Eyes: Bright glowing orange when active

Aura: Flickering like a contained star

Overall vibe: A living supernova barely contained in human form

Power Scaling / Limits

Strengths: Extremely high offensive output, Defensive aura makes her hard to damage, Versatile combat style (ranged + melee + area of effect), battlefield control

Weaknesses: Overload Risk: Too much energy can cause unstable, explosive discharge, Emotional Amplification: Anger or fear increases power but reduces control, Collateral Damage: Hard to use full power without harming surroundings, Drain State: After massive output, she becomes temporarily weakened

Core Identity

Sylvia is the public hero of the trio.

Where Rebecca is feared and Emily is trusted, Sylvia is admired; She represents what the world wants a hero to be… while quietly standing beside people the world doesn’t fully accept.

Before Powers

Sylvia Bell was one of the most promising young pilots in the United States Air Force. She was fearless under pressure, highly ambitious, and exceptionally skilled. She was known for pushing limits others wouldn’t, but she wasn’t reckless; she was driven. That’s what caught the attention of S.H.I.E.L.D..

S.H.I.E.L.D. Recruitment

S.H.I.E.L.D. didn’t just recruit her; they selected her. She was chosen to pilot an experimental deep-space craft designed to study cosmic radiation, test interstellar propulsion, and explore energy sources beyond Earth. She accepted immediately. “You don’t get better by staying where it’s safe.”

The Incident

During the mission, the craft encounters a surge of unknown cosmic radiation, causing systems to fail. Sylvia stays in control long enough to prevent total catastrophe, but she’s exposed directly. Instead of dying, her latent X-gene activates.

Mutation Awakening

Unlike most mutants, Sylvia’s powers didn’t emerge gradually; they ignited instantly. Her body began generating cosmic energy; the ship was partially destroyed by her uncontrolled output, and she survived re-entry surrounded by a burning cosmic aura. This becomes a defining public moment: The pilot who fell from space… and lived.

Public Emergence as a Hero

Before she even joins a team, Sylvia becomes a media sensation, a symbol of survival and strength.

Joining the X-Men

Sylvia chooses to join the X-Men voluntarily, not because she needs help, but because she chooses her people. Her goal is to use her visibility to change how the world sees mutants. This is where she deepens her bond with Rebecca and Emily. They become her anchor to humanity, not just heroism. During her time with the X-Men, Sylvia experienced relationships with both Scott Summers and Jean Grey at different points in time. These relationships reflect her early search for identity, belonging, and emotional grounding within the mutant community. Each connection helped her understand love, trust, and the complexity of shared power and responsibility.

Avengers Era

Sylvia is later brought in by the Avengers. She becomes a front-facing hero, someone that the public rallies behind and a bridge between humans and mutants.

Her Role: High-threat missions, Cosmic-level threats, Public reassurance; She’s the one standing in front of cameras after battles.

When she joined the Avengers, Sylvia entered a deeply meaningful relationship with Natasha Romanoff. This relationship represented emotional maturity, mutual understanding of trauma and duty, and quiet, grounded intimacy beneath global-scale responsibility. Natasha’s death on Vormir during the events surrounding the Soul Stone mission became a defining emotional rupture in Sylvia’s life. Natasha’s sacrifice left Sylvia profoundly devastated, marking her most significant personal loss. This event reshaped her worldview: Power could save worlds, but not always the people she loved.

The Bridge Between Worlds

Sylvia becomes something rare: A mutant trusted by humans and a hero trusted by mutants. She actively connects the X-Men, Avengers, and Government agencies. But this puts pressure on her; she has to constantly prove that she’s not too dangerous, she’s not biased, and that she’s still “one of the good ones”.

Thunderbolts / New Avengers Era

Eventually, she becomes connected to the Thunderbolts, not as a controlled member but as the one they call when things are out of control.

Her Role on/with the Team: Public-facing reassurance, Heavy hitter in extreme situations, Moral contrast to darker members

She stands beside Rebecca (feared), Emily (scrutinized), Walker (controversial), and Yelena (morally gray), and she chooses them anyway. In her later career with the Thunderbolts (or New Avengers), Sylvia forms a romantic relationship with Yelena Belova. Unlike her previous relationships, this one is more grounded in humor and honesty and built on emotional resilience after loss. It is less symbolic, more human. Yelena becomes the person who helps Sylvia stay present, reconnect with herself outside of her hero identity, and move forward without erasing her past.

Internal Conflict

Sylvia’s biggest struggle isn’t power, it’s identity. She lives between being the “perfect hero”, being a mutant, and being loyal to people the world questions. Core Fear: “If I stop being what they expect, do I lose everything?”

[brilliantlybeloved]

[brilliantlybeloved]

[dime-store-poisonivy]

@mrsbarnesreynolds

[littlemusings]

◆ photo credit

[littlemusings]

[photo credit]

[dime-store-poisonivy]

Yelena would absolutely teasingly call me (my self insert) "Poison Ivy but moodier." John likely would have called me 'Poison Ivy', too, (again, teasingly), when he first met me and/or first started working with me.