Starkvenger

Because Ao3 hates it when I post songfics there.

Probably gonna do this Tumblr-Only series for a while- idk yet but I really enjoy writing stuff like this, writing a fic around a song can really help me get creative. And hey, if you guys don’t like it, that’s fine! This is purely for my own enjoyment. lol :)

The song we’re going with this time: “Domino” by Isek Danielson

Lol yep!

My Instagram is @redheadbadger

I drew it! lol 

I SEE YALL SNEAKIN’ OVER HERE FROM AO3. 

OH, MY GODS. THIS. THIS IS EXACTLY MY CUP OF TEA RIGHT HERE. Something that feels somewhat convoluted with hijinks and identity porn thrown in there--

YESSSSS I LOVE THIS IDEA. I also love that it’s reminiscent of the Shazam/Superman movie.... :3

Might post a longer vers. on my Ao3 But for now...

Clark thumped the pen between his fingers rhythmically on the table in front of him, chewing the inside of his cheek in thought. 

After practically begging Perry White to let him do a story on Superman and Captain Marvel’s fight against Dr. Sivanna in Fawcett, he’d come to the quaint town, checked in to a hotel, and set to work.

It’s just too bad he’d come up with nothing so far.

Not the story, no, that was going just fine- he had more than enough information, as well as witness accounts and data (not that Perry needed to know that just yet). 

No, what Clark was struggling with was something else entirely. The reason he’d begged Perry to assign him this story in the first place, allowing him to focus his attention on Fawcett City- that was what was giving him trouble.

Captain Marvel was missing.

The battle that he and the Captain had partnered on had gone somewhat smoothly, all things considered-- Sivana was a cackling lunatic that easily slid into the classic ‘mad scientist’ archetype, and had built some kind of death ray or something. 

To be honest, Clark hadn’t really been paying attention to what the man was saying, especially since half of the things that came out of his mouth made no sense to him and sounded more like an inside joke between the bald man and Captain Marvel.

Not to mention he’d been busy trying to fight off a giant, mutated octopus- which, really, gave him so many questions. Where had he been keeping this? How was it just fine to walk-or, uh, suction-cup around the city? Why did it spit acid of all things?

The reporter rubbed a spot just below his shoulder at the thought, wincing in pain as his fingers grazed sensitive skin. That acid had hurt. He really wished Arthur had been with them, it would have made things much easier- but the truth of the matter was that he hadn't been, and the creature had found Superman a wonderful target.

Regardless, while he was busy with Octo-zilla, Captain Marvel had taken on the mad scientist. Sivana had set up shop atop a radio tower, cackling and ranting on about something or other before taking aim at Captain Marvel when the man cracked a joke about his plan. 

The demigod had redirected a lightning bolt from the sky towards the ray-gun and destroyed it- but not before Sivana was able to shoot him, launching him backward through the sky and sailing through the air as his lightning blew up Sivana's device. 

Superman had managed to get the mutated calamari to submit after while and had detained Sivana quickly there-after- but Captain Marvel never returned. 

At first, Clark thought the man would catch up with him at the Watchtower when he went in to give a report. When Captain Marvel never showed, he got worried. Bruce told him to give the guy a day or two, so he did- no word ever came. 

The Justice League held a meeting, hoping the man would show and explain what had happened to him.

Captain Marvel hadn’t shown up.

To quell the worry running through his teammates’ heads, Clark had volunteered himself to look for the demigod- he'd wanted to help clean up from the battle anyways, and trying to find their missing demigod would help to silence the worry in his own mind as well.

So now, here he was, in Fawcett City as Clark Kent, trying to find his missing teammate.

The raven-haired reporter sighed, rubbing the skin between his eyebrows in frustration as he continued to thump his pen against the table. The diner was small, plain and quiet, run by an old woman and her daughter- the coffee was fresh and warm, and the people were nice. 

Clark had always preferred mom-and-pop places like this to chain-brand places- there was a certain personal touch to a diner like this.

"Need a refill, sir?" a voice asked, pulling the man from his thoughts and causing him to glance up at the woman holding a coffee pot out for him. The daughter, he thought off-handedly, blinking at the soft curls in her hair that reminded her of Lois when she got dolled up.

"Oh, uh, yes, please. Thank you," he said, sliding his half-empty mug toward the woman with a small smile.

She poured the dark liquid into his mug and he gave her a smile, lifting it to his mouth before sudden movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He furrowed his brow, glancing out the large window of the diner as a small boy with a mop of black hair ran past him, eyes wide and full of fear as he stumbled over his own feet, crashing onto the sidewalk.

Clark furrowed his brow at the boy, tensing and standing up as the boy clambered clumsily to his feet, ignoring the scrapes on his skin and continuing to run like his life depended on it. 

A few moments later, a pair of teenagers came running past the window. 

Clark didn't need to see anymore- he could tell when someone was in danger. He shuffled out of the booth, slipping a couple of dollars from his wallet before pocketing it, his note pad, and his pen, grabbing his jacket, and taking off out of the diner.

He ran in the direction the children had gone, eyes sharp, and looking for any sign of danger. He didn't slow down until he heard soft, almost inaudible sobs coming from an alley. Clark slowed to a walk, glancing around to see if anyone else was in the area before ducking into the alley. 

He moved slowly, vision suddenly cutting through the various objects in the alleyway- he saw through dumpsters and abandoned boxes, large, plastic trashcans and- 

A small bit of movement caught his eye from the opposite side of a dumpster. He saw a small skeleton sitting on the ground, legs pulled up to its chest, and shaking like a leaf. Clark's hand curled into a fist at the sight of a fractured rib. The Kryptonian closed his eyes and shook the X-Ray vision away, blinking and crouching down slightly as he walked. 

"Hello...?" he said slowly, hearing the small figure's heart skip a beat.  

Clark came a bit closer, leaning forward to look around the dumpster. The small boy with a mop of black hair he'd seen before sat on the ground in front of him, trembling against the wall and staring up at him with terrified, icy blue eyes. "Are you okay, son?" Clark asked gently, putting his hands out placatingly and crouching down further. He made no move to get closer to the boy, and the child just stared at him silently. 

"Do you need help?"

The boy just continued to water at him with wide eyes and a fear that he'd be attacked- or worse. Clark let out a short breath, looking around the alley. They were the only ones there- those teenagers must have taken off after hurting the boy. 

"Are you hurt?" he asked gently, even though he knew the answer. 

The boy reacted to that, bringing his knees in a little closer and hugging himself- something that made him wince in pain. "Careful-" Clark said, reaching out a hand. "Don't- don't hurt yourself worse."

"Look, i'm not gonna hurt you, I promise," the Kryptonian said slowly, scooting a bit closer to the boy. "My name's Clark. Can you speak?" 

The boy nodded slowly. 

Good- good. So he wasn't mute, just scared.

"Can you tell me your name?" 

The small raven stared at him for a moment before chewing on his bottom lip- an action that, surprisingly, felt familiar to the Man of Steel. He furrowed his brow slightly at the thought but shoved it away. This kid was more important right now. 

"...Billy." 

"Okay...well it's nice to meet you, Billy. Do you have a last name to go with that?" he asked. Maybe Bruce could look the kid up and he could get him home to his parents. When the boy began to tear up, Clark felt like he'd said something wrong somehow.

Billy was shaking his head, tears beading in the corners of his eyes. 

"You- you don't have a last name?" Clark asked in confusion.

"I- I don' remember..." the boy mumbled, tears falling down his cheeks. 

Clark felt a cold chill go up his spine. Amnesia. That in itself would be trouble enough, but this was a kid with amnesia- it made things much harder. It had to be retrograde since the boy couldn't remember his last name- he'd have to get him to Bruce so he could run a facial scan. 

"Well, Billy..." he said, coming a bit closer. "Do you mind if I take you to get help? You're hurt, and I wanna help you- but I can't if you don't let me," he said, holding out a hand to the boy. "Will you let me help you?" he asked, looking into the child's icy blue eyes. 

Billy stared at the man's hand, and Clark could almost see the cogs spinning in his mind. He furrowed his brow, meeting Clark's gaze before letting out a shaky breath and nodding. "O-okay," he said, reaching a hand out to grab the reporter's.

Clark gave the boy a soft smile, coming closer to lift the boy into his arms. Billy was tense at first, but he slowly settled into the man’s arms. “Okay, I think I have a friend that can help us with your injury,” he said, glancing towards the entrance of the alley.

Hmm.... 😈😈

• • •

Captain Marvel furrowed his brow in confusion as he stared at Bizarro Superman— the grey-skinned, hulking figure currently sitting across from him in a small chair.

He watched as the man with Superman’s face squeaked a small rubber duck happily, laughing at the sound the toy made.

Marvel had been saddled with watching the man while the others in the League dealt with the newcomers— Bizarro Superman’s Justice League.

“Uhh... so, Bizarro... what’s Earth-29 like?” Cap asked, sitting back in his chair and folding his arms over his chest as the man continued to squeak his rubber duck.

“Terrible,” the man said with a grin. Cap nodded slowly— he’d been told that Bizarro was backwards, including his speech patterns.

“Well that’s good,” he said, rubbing the back of his head. “What about—“

The doors to the meeting room slammed open, the demigod being slammed into by a bright red blur. The raven grunted as he was slammed against the ground, looking up in confusion at the man above him— staring at the spitting image of himself, plus grey skin.

“Whoa...” Marvel breathed, sitting up as his double clambered off of him angrily. “Wha—“

“Captain DC, get back in here!” Diana said as she came out of the meeting room, glancing between the pair before training her eyes on the demigod from Earth-29.

“...Captain DC?” Marvel asked, furrowing his brow in confusion as he looked at the man currently getting to his feet. His double narrowed his eyes at him angrily as Diana grabbed his arm gently. “I don’t understand.”

His double flared angrily at him before looking at a point on the wall and raising an unimpressed eyebrow. He jabbed a thumb towards Cap, continuing to stare at the blank spot on the wall before turning his attention toward Diana.

“Fine,” he grumbled, following her back to the meeting room.

Captain Marvel blinked, watching them leave before glancing at Bizarro. “Uhh....” he started, watching the man pick up the rubber duck and hold it out for him to take.

Ooh I like this idea—

Billy hummed to himself as he ran ahead, glancing over his shoulder at Clark and Bruce as they walked behind him. The pair watched him with fond expressions, the latter much more subdued than the former.

If Billy had known that revealing his identity would get him not 1 but 2 new father figures, he wouldn’t’ve his his identity in the first place. He’d told the League who he really was nearly two weeks ago now, and sure, things were slightly different now—

Dinah had gained this tendency to check up on him after missions, and Barry was much more likely to joke around with him if he saw he was feeling down. Bruce wasn’t as hard on him in the field, and he and Diana had spent so much time talking about magic and gods that Billy felt like an expert.

All in all, it was great— the League has become sort of like a family for the 10-year-old. When Clark and Bruce has asked to see where he lived, sure, he’d been hesitant. Some of the heroes on the League had started treating him like a child, making him very unwilling to work with those people— but these guys had kept treating him the same as they always had... for the most part.

So, once the pair had caught up to him for the third time, he bolted ahead again and around the corner with a laugh— only to run face-first into another person.

The boy stumbled backwards and landed on his rear on the sidewalk, wincing in pain and shaking his head. “Ow— Sorry about that, I wasn’t looking where I was—“ he froze at the sight of a lanky, silver-haired man currently sneering down at the coffee that had been spilled in the front of his suit.

Billy’s eyes widened. He knew that crooked posture, those gnarled, Boney knuckles currently clutching a silver cane—

Slam. Slam. SLAM.

Blood oozed down his cheek as the head of the cane was slammed against the side of his face.

His trembling arms up in an attempt to guard himself as he pleaded against the ruthless attacks. “Pl-please, Uncle, no-no more—“

Bruises covering his small form as he sat in the dark, hair matted and icy blue eyes full of fear as footsteps passed in the hallway.

Billy’s body trembled as he stared up at the skeletal man, inching backward in fear as the man turned his attention towards the 11-year-old. “You insolent whelp, watch where you’re—“ the man paused, his pupils shrinking as recognition sparked in the old man’s steely grey eyes.

“You...” he growled, lip curling into a sneer as he moved to grab Billy— the boy scrambled backward in a panic, his upper half making it to the edge of the corner before the man picked him up by the collar of his shirt and lifted him into the air angrily.

Billy struggled against the old man’s grip, tears beading in his eyes as he scratched at the old hands holding him tightly. “N-no- no no no-“ the boy whimpered, tears trailing down his cheeks as he shut his eyes tightly.

“Put him down,” a sudden, very angry voice said, causing the 11-year-old to open his eyes and glance behind him.

He saw Clark glaring daggers at the man, his arm out to keep Bruce as bay. Dark waves of anger radiated off the Dark Knight, crashing into Billy and making him tremble.

Right— he had back up now.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” Ebenezer asked, sneer still one his face as he looked Clark up and down. “This is none of your business,” his grip tightened on Billy’s shirt, nails scraping against his skin through the fabric and making the raven wince.

“You either put him down this instant, or I’ll report you to the police for violating a minor,” Bruce suddenly said, phone out and typing away as he spoke coldly. “The boy very obviously doesn’t want to be touched by you. I could get a team of lawyers to claim assault— I could ruin you,” Bruce growled.

The old man narrowed his eyes, turning his attention towards Billy. “Tell these two to mind their business. This is a...family...matter,” he spat, making the boy flinch.

Billy glanced back at Bruce and Clark, eyes wide and scared. “P-please help me-“ he whimpered.

Clark was moving in an instant— he grabbed Billy from the old man and held him tightly to his chest as Bruce stepped forward, punching Ebenezer square in the nose. “Leave. If you know what’s good for you.” Bruce growled, the Dark Knight seeping into his voice and sending chills down Billy’s spine.

Ebenezer held a hand to his nose, shock and indignation in his eyes as he took a step back. He glared at Billy, only to have Clark meet his gaze and stand at his full height, looking down his nose at the thin man.

“Run away, old man...” Clark said coldly, his light blue irises gaining a slight red tint.

Ebenezer turned on his heel and trudge down the sidewalk, cane gripped tightly in one hand as he shoved past people.

Billy clutched Clark’s shirt tightly, watching the old man leave. “Th-thank you...” he mumbled, dropping his gaze as he leaned his head against the Kryptonian’s shoulder.

“Of course, Billy...” Clark said, glancing at Bruce, who was still watching the old man from a far. “Come on...let’s go back to the Watchtower. We can see where you live some other time.”

Ooh... I’ve gotten similar prompts before, but I like the twist of them thinking it’s cause he’s not human...

Here’s a first try— might do something bigger on Ao3, who knows—

• • • • •

Billy Batson— or, in this form, Captain Marvel— found himself staring off into space in the middle of a meeting. It wasn’t something he did often, but sometimes his thoughts wandered when a meeting was particularly lengthy or boring.

He must have been doing so for a long time and was in there pretty deep, as the sudden hand on his shoulder was like a (literal) shock to his system. Lightning arched outward from his muscular build on instinct, his eyes widening as he flinched hard and curled away from the touch.

The meeting room was gone, replaced with a dark closet full of boxes and clothes, and the raven wasn’t Cap anymore— he was little Billy Batson, bruises on his face and collarbone, scratches and cuts on the palms of his hands and forearms. His hair was a ruffled mess, his cheeks tinted red and tear-stained.

His thin frame trembled as loud, harsh voices rang out just outside the door, yelling, crying out and bashing against his skull. He wanted them to stop, wanted them to go away, wanted it all to just—

“CAPTAIN!”

The demigod gasped, eyes wide as he came back to himself. He was staring at Flash, who sat directly across from him, and visibly shaking. He couldn’t control the tremors running through him— he hadn’t had an episode like that in so long, what had brought this on—

He glanced at his shoulder, finding the hand that had been there previously hovering in the air. He followed the hand upward and found it belonged to Superman of all people— the Kryptonian was watching him with wide eyes as the demigod suddenly stood.

“I have to go.”

• • • • •

Cap hummed you himself softly as he worked on making sandwiches, getting lost in his own head as he spread various ingredients on bread.

“Hey, Cap— nice job today,” a voice said from behind him, causing the man to glance back and find Green Arrow of all people grinning at him.

“Didn’t know you could eat so much— you could almost put the Flash to shame,” Oliver said with a chuckle, bringing a hand up to clap it on the demigod’s back.

Captain Marvel flinched hard, the man’s hand feeling like fire against his skin. He lurched forward closer to the food he was making, causing the archer to furrow his brow and drop his hand.

“You okay there buddy?” The blonde asked, tilting his head in question as Marvel’s grip tightened around his butter knife. “You not like bein’ touched or something?”

Marvel stayed quiet, swallowing thickly and nodding shakily. “Not uh— not- not used to it,” he replied, setting down his knife. “Sorry.”

Oliver grinned, setting his hands on his hips. “Oh, don’t worry about it Cap— I’m sure an ancient god dude like you isn’t used to being around us common folk. It’ll just take some getting used to,” he said with a chuckle.

Captain Marvel stayed quiet, picking up his butter knife again. “R-right...”

• • • • •

“Mission report— from everyone,” Batman said, his tone more harsh and demanding than usual. A few of the League members shared a look, some rolling their eyes and others staring warily at one another.

Captain Marvel wrung his wrists together anxiously— he’d majorly messed up during this mission, and because of him someone had nearly gotten hurt. He wasn’t looking forward to highlighting that again— especially when it was something Batman had witnessed first-hand.

Flash was first to give his report, babbling about damage and civilians and goons, Batman listening with a grim expression. When he was done, he was dismissed. “Marvel,” Batman said, looking towards the demigod.

“Report.”

Captain Marvel swallowed thickly, nodding at the Dark Knight and taking a step forward. The man already knew what had happened, he didn’t want to recap. “I worked on minimizing damge, for the most part. Kept a skyscraper from collapsing, as well as put out a fire before it could do too much damage.” He said before dropping his gaze.

“I experienced a momuntary lapse in judgment, and—“ he let out a shaky breath in an attempt to calm himself. “And put civilians in danger.”

Batman stared him down, silently.

“You actively put civilians in the line of fire,” Batman growled out lowly, his hands clasped together as he stared at the taller raven. “You nearly killed an entire family, Captain.” He said, raising his voice.

“Your arrogance nearly murdered innocents!” Batman yelled, standing up and slamming his hands down on the table. Captain Marvel stiffened, his back straightening as he flinched and eyes took on a sudden sheen.

Some of the other heroes furrowed their brows at his reaction. Marvel’s posture was stiff and straight, his muscles tense and fists tight at his sides. If they looked closely, they’d see his breathing sharp and short, verging on panicking.

“I’m- im sorry, sir.”

“You damn well should be,” Batman growled, glaring the demigod down.

Marvel stayed still as the Dark Knight dropped his gaze, sitting back down with a huff. “Lantern. Your turn.”

• • • • •

Captain Marvel ran a hand through his hair as he stepped out of the Zeta Beam, trailing after the Young Justice team as they came into the Watchtower. He’s been assigned to help them on their latest mission, and overall it had gone fine— apart from the fact that he’d sort of been captured and the teenagers hadn’t stopped arguing the entire mission.

Something he should have been able to stop— he was supposed to be the peacemaker, and he’s more than failed at that aspect. Sure, he’d given Aqualad advice on how to keep his team a cohesive unit, but he still never should have allowed them to split in the first place.

And now he was going to have to pay for it.

Captain Marvel followed the group towards the main meeting room, the metallic doors sliding open and revealing the rest of the League. The demigod glanced at his spot at the table longingly— oh to not have to give this report— before shaking the thought away and straightening.

“Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman,” he greeted as he and the teenagers came in, making his way to the front of the group and holding his hands firmly behind his back. He was sure that the kids behind him could see how tensely he was holding himself, he could feel his forearms trembling and his nails digging into his skin, but he couldn’t focus on that right now.

“The mission overall was a success— the team was able to figure out the source of the animal attacks as well as get rid of the collars being used to cause the animals to attack people,” he said, taking a steadying breath in and letting it out.

“Thought we did have complications.”

He didn’t see the teenagers sharing looks behind him, or see them shuffling uncomfortably as Batman’s eyes narrowed on the hero. Captain Marvel took a slight step forward, making sure the man’s hard gaze stayed on him, rather than the others— something the team took notice of.

“What complications.”

Marvel’s nails dug further into his skin, hard enough that, had he not been bullet-proof, he would have broken skin. “I allowed myself to be captured,” he said, flinching slightly when Batman’s glare grew slightly harder. “And I allowed the team to split up.”

The teenagers behind him furrowed their brows— Cap hadn’t ‘allowed’ them to split up— they’d done it on their own, out of their own arrogance and misguidance. They didn’t understand why he’d take the fall for them like this. “I know that I was sent along with the team to make sure the mission went smoothly, and I failed in that. It was successful, but it wasn’t smooth.”

Batman stayed quiet as Superman sighed. “Was anyone hurt?”

Captain Marvel shook his head, causing some of the teenagers eyes to widen slightly— Marvel himself had bearly had his head carved into; the PTSD that could come from that should have more than counted. Why- why was he doing this?

Batman pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a sigh. “You’re benched for the foreseeable future, Captain.”

Anyone in the room could tell the demigod was hurt by this, if his flinch was anything go by, but his expression remained neutral. “Y-Yes sir,” he said, nails finally breaking skin and causing blood to trail down the base of his palm and drip to the floor.

“You’re dismissed.”

The teenagers behind him stared at the demigod shocked, watching as the man nodded and turned to leave, maneuvering around them and leaving the room hastily. He left a trail of blood behind him, dark red spots on the bright white tiles.