The journey was short.
Or more like it was actually very long, as we had flown from NYC to the Adirondack Mountains of Upstate New York. The distance was more than 400 km. The journey felt short because it took us just under half an hour to cover that distance.
Absurd for a helicopter? Obviously. But Doom doesn't build ordinary machines.
"Is that a castle?" Johnny exclaimed.
All of us turned to look where he pointed. There it was—a lone castle hidden among the mountains.
Yes, Johnny. It's a castle. And if I am not wrong, it is a replica of his Castle Doom in Latveria.
As the helicopter descended, we heard Doom's voice from a speaker at the corner of the cage.
"Welcome, my reluctant passengers," Doom said smoothly. "Welcome to the humble abode of Doctor Doom."
"Humble?" Ben scoffed. "I'm gonna humble him in a second."
A few minutes later, all of us were in the throne room.
Doom sat on an elevated throne, looking down on us like a king looking at peasants. Susan stood on his right, bound with ropes, her face filled with worry for us. On his left lounged a massive tiger—larger than any I had seen, its shoulders nearly level with the armrest. It growled low and constant, muscles coiled to spring at a single command. Yet whenever Doom's gloved hand stroked its head, the beast melted into a rumbling purr.
Interesting.
Though technically…
He wasn't Doom.
Name: Doombot
Rank: E3
As expected, there was no way that paranoid bastard would've appeared in person.
I just didn't know if Doom was in this castle.
"Why are we standing around?" Ben growled. "Let's rush him."
"Calm down, you rock-brain," Johnny snapped. "Can't you see Sue beside him? What if he did something to her?"
"Ben, calm down for now," Reed said calmly. He gave Susan a reassuring nod, then turned back to Doom. "Let's hear what he has to say."
Ben snorted, but didn't speak further.
"You are wise to restrain yourself," Doom, or rather, Doom through Doombot, said with an amused laugh. "Otherwise, my little pet here would've taken offense." The tiger roared towards us and showed its massive, sharp teeth when it heard its master talking about it.
None of us bothered to humor him with a response to that.
"Now that we are on the same page," Doom continued smoothly. "I want you to perform a mission for me, and if you complete it successfully, you will be rewarded handsomely."
His gaze shifted slightly toward Susan.
"And should you decline…"
He did not finish the sentence.
He didn't need to.
The tiger's growl deepened.
Ben and Johnny looked ready to pounce at the implied threat, but controlled themselves.
"Don't talk in circles," Ben snapped. "Directly tell us what you want us to do."
"I have developed an incredible invention," Doom said, the arrogance in its voice rising another notch. "The best of the age. A time travel machine."
Even though I knew he created a time machine by himself from canon, hearing it from him was still shocking.
Reed looked incredulous, but not disbelieving. Susan looked shocked at the revelation. On the other hand, Ben and Johnny showed their disbelief on their faces.
"Bullshit," Ben scoffed.
"Dude, are you high?" Johnny mocked.
"Silence!" Doom bellowed.
"I want you to travel to the past," Doom continued. "And obtain the legendary treasure of Captain Blackbeard for me."
"Is he serious?" Johnny asked, stunned.
"He means it," Reed said in a low voice. He took a deep breath and continued, "Victor is not one to make empty boasts."
"If that's the case," Ben said, his eyes narrowing, disbelief still visible on his face. "Why don't you go and get it yourself?"
"I can't," Doom answered. "I must remain here to operate the machine."
"Shall we do it?" Reed discussed, turning to his teammates.
"If it's true," Johnny's expression shifted. "A chance to visit the past. Like — real pirates? Cannons? Ships? Who could refuse that?"
Dude, your sister is still a hostage.
"I could," Ben retorted. "What if he doesn't bring us back?"
Doom's fingers tightened against the throne's armrest. "You dare question Doom's honor?"
Reed gave Doom a long look, then he turned back to his teammates. "Despite all his other flaws, Victor is not a liar. He will keep his word."
"He'd better," Ben snorted.
Reed turned to Doom. He looked like he had made the decision.
"We agree," Reed said. With a heavy face, he continued, "But you must swear that you will set Sue and Kevin free if we don't return."
He didn't forget me. He is really a good guy, unlike some of his counterparts in other universes.
"Reed," Susan said with a worried look. "Don't say things like that."
"Agreed, I will free her," Doom promised. "I only needed Susan Storm to lure you here."
Wait a second. He only promised to free Susan!
"Hey," I said, finally speaking for the first time. "What about me?"
"What about you?" he replied, voice flat with disinterest. "You will accompany them."
This motherfucker with his metal fetish and mommy issues.
"Why?" I asked, forcing my tone to stay steady.
"Peasant, you aren't worthy to question Emperor Doom," Doom said dismissively.
"Why do you mean by that, Victor?" Reed asked with a clipped voice. "Kevin's just a civilian. Why are you dragging him in this?"
"That's his fault," Doom snorted. "For being at the wrong place at the wrong time."
Ok, now it is starting to feel personal. I don't think I have ever pissed off Doom. I may do it in the future, but I haven't till now. Then why?
"But—" Reed wanted to argue, but was cut off by Doom.
"Enough," Doom bellowed. "My decision is final. He will go with you."
Reed knew there was no talking out of it, so he turned and looked at me with a guilty face.
"Sorry, Kevin," Reed said with an apologetic face. "You will have to come with us. But I promise you that nothing will happen to you."
Ben cracked his knuckles. "Stick close to me, kid, I will protect you."
I sighed. I guess there is no choice.
"No problem, guys," I said with a slight smile. "I will accompany you to the past. I will just treat it as an adventure."
I looked at Doom from the corner of my eyes. I continued with an edge in my voice, "After all, it is my fault that I was at the wrong place, at the wrong time."
Doom ignored me.
"Since you all have decided," Doom said. "I will send you hundreds of years in the past. You will have forty-eight hours to find and acquire the treasure. Only two hours will pass here, after which I will bring you back."
"Do not fail!" Doom said, pressing a button on the armrest.
Immediately, the platform beneath us started glowing, and a flash of light covered our sight.
—
The first thing that assaulted me wasn't the sight.
It was the smell.
Salt-heavy sea air.
Rotting fish lay out on wooden racks.
Human waste trickled through shallow gutters.
Sweat. Rum. Tar.
Welcome to the Golden Age of Piracy.
We stood in what looked like an open port square. The ground was packed mud, darkened by countless boots and recent rain. Wooden buildings leaned at slight angles, some with warped balconies hanging overhead.
The people around were dressed in various types of clothes. Some were dressed in high-class attire, such as tricorn hats and long coats, clearly nobles or wealthy people. The commoners were dressed in rough, patched clothes. Some carried with them cutlasses and flintlock pistols.
"It worked," Johnny gasped. "Look where we are!"
"No time to admire the scenery," Reed said sharply. "We only have forty-eight hours."
I checked my system map. We were in a port city in the Caribbean.
We hurriedly left the open area to hide behind a building so that no one would notice us.
"We need new clothes," Reed observed, peeking at the people from our hiding spot. "We are too conspicuous in our current clothes."
We looked around, and after some time, two pirates staggered past, dragging a large bundle wrapped in white cloth. They stopped and started fighting over it.
"I stole these clothes, ye swab!" A pirate roared. "They're mine!"
"Ye miserable sea dog!" The other pirate roared too. "Ye swore to divide the booty with me."
Clothes, they said?
We looked at each other. It looked like our clothing problem was solved.
"I say they're mine!" Ben roared and thumped his fists on his chest. "You have a problem?"
"Flee!" The first pirate roared. "'Tis a demon!" He ran. The other pirate also ran after him.
While Reed, Ben, and Johnny crowded around the fallen cloth bundle, I intercepted the two pirates. They were too weak with non-existent skills. Two punches and they were down. I pocketed the pieces of silver shillings and copper pennies they had and returned to the group.
The clothes looked expensive. We each wore a set above the clothes we were wearing. It felt hot with two layers of clothes. I decided that the first chance I would get, I would store my original clothes in my Inventory.
I noticed Reed helped Ben put on a fake beard and mustache from the bundle, an eyepatch, and a hat to cover his face.
Looking somewhat similar to the people of this age, we left the area.
As we looked around, I left the group sneakily a few times to mug a few more innocent pirates and sailors away from prying eyes.
After walking around the place for some time, we came across a bar, Rusty Anchor.
Before we even entered the bar, the sound of shouting and laughter greeted us first.
A pair of pirates argued at a table.
"Double or nothin', you pox-ridden son of a poxy whore," a pirate with a black eyepatch growled at the man sitting across from him. "I say the next prize we take is a fat Spanish plate ship. You say merchantman. Coin's on the table."
The other pirate smirked, his gold tooth glinting. "Merchantman, Cutler. Fat and slow. Less cannon, more silk. I want somethin' I can fuck on, not die under."
At another table, another group of pirates laughed and ate food.
"Bring me a mug of ale, you wench," one of the pirates shouted. "Throat's drier than an old hag's cunt."
The bar wench didn't flinch because of the shout. She calmly walked towards the table, holding a tankard.
"Call me a wench once more, ginger," the wench said in a low voice, "and I'll shove this rag so far up your arse you'll taste my kitchen floor for a week."
"That's your ale," she said and put the tankard on the table with a loud clank. The drink sloshed inside but didn't spill. "Got coin this time, or next you lick spills off the boards like the mangy cur you are."
His fellow pirates laughed louder, listening to the roast. At the same time, the pirate in context had his face as red as his hair.
"Think I'm some broke sod?" the pirate barked. He took out a few pence from his sash and slapped them on the table.
The bar wench bent down to pick up the coins. The pirate made a lewd face as he looked at her backside. Just as he was about to grope her butt, she held his hand and twisted it. The pirate howled like a kicked dog, and a few moments later, she finally let go.
Damn, bar wenches in this age aren't some flowers in a greenhouse.
She picked up the coins, bit them to check they were authentic, then pocketed them and left. But stopped after taking two steps.
"Next time, you'd better keep your hands to yourself, or I'll serve you piss instead of ale. Tastes the same after the third round anyway," she said with a straight face, then resumed walking.
The pirates around laughed even louder after that.
"Damn, Maggie's a firecracker," a pirate laughed with rotten teeth. "How much she take for a tumble?"
"You reckon a rotten weasel like you stands a chance?" his mate shot back, cackling.
We stepped into the bar.
The noise dipped for half a heartbeat. A few pirates glanced toward the door out of idle habit—new coin, new trouble. But when they saw us, the glances lingered.
Even the two bar wenches paused. The barkeep stopped wiping his mug.
We were too clean.
No salt-crusted hair. No broken noses. No missing fingers or teeth. No scars earned under cannon fire.
We looked like we had never fought the sea.
And in a place like this, that made us stand out more than blood would have.
"Look at them silk-bellied cunts," one pirate sneered, voice thick with rum.
"What're a pack of stormless pups doin' in here?" another barked, laughter wet and ugly.
"Wrong door, darlings. This ain't the Governor's Banquet Hall. The Crown & Compass is down Fifth," Maggie said with a smile of amusement.
"Who are you calling a stormless pup, you bastard?" And Ben snapped. He picked up a table effortlessly and was about to throw it at the pirate who spoke earlier, but Reed and Johnny immediately held each of his arms tightly to stop him.
"Easy, Ben," Reed muttered low. "No scene. We need answers, not a brawl."
"Reed's right, rock-head," Johnny hissed. "Don't make things difficult for us."
A few pirates had already reached for the swords at their waist, looking at Ben warily.
Begrudgingly, Ben put down the table, but not after giving that pirate one last glare. But that was more than enough. For these pirates who tasted blood at the edge of a knife every day, Ben's feat of picking up the table effortlessly with one hand and then putting it back down just as easily, together with his huge body, showed he was a strong man not to be trifled with casually.
The pirate looked pale and visibly sighed in relief when Ben put down the table. All other pirates also stopped the jeering and went back to doing whatever they were doing, but subtle murmurs while looking in our direction remained.
I took a step forward and looked at Maggie, who was standing behind the counter, wiping a tankard.
"Greetings, love," I said with a smooth smile. "At the docks, we heard there is a place with a woman who can break both hearts and bones in the same breath. Looks like the talk wasn't bullshit."
A glint of interest flicked in Maggie's eyes. She snorted, "Flattery's cheaper than piss-ale here, stranger. What do you actually want?"
"Nothing much," I answered, smile holding steady. "Just rolled in off a ship, throats dry as bone. So why don't you point us to your best table, love?"
I slid a silver shilling across the scarred wood—clean, heavy, no bite marks.
"My, quite generous, ain't ya," Maggie said, smile tugging one corner of her mouth.
She scooped the coin, bit it quick, then jerked her head toward the corner table nearest the back wall, half-hidden by a sagging beam. "Over there. Best view of the door, worst view of the drunks pissing in the alley. "
"Beauty deserves the coin," I said to her previous comment, voice low and smooth, looking directly in her eyes.
Maggie's snort turned into a short, rough laugh. "Keep talkin' pretty and maybe I won't charge you double for the rum."
I laughed, then led the group to the table Maggie pointed to.
"Kid," Ben muttered under his breath once we settled, "you're smoother than you look."
Reed shook his head faintly, amused despite himself.
Johnny leaned back in his chair, eyeing me like I'd challenged him to a duel. "You think that was smooth? Watch and learn."
Johnny got up and walked to the other bar wench. We couldn't hear what he was saying to her because of the noise. But a minute later, the bar wench said something and then started laughing. Johnny turned around and walked towards us with his head down in shame. He looked like someone had slapped him.
"What up, Matchstick?" Ben mocked. "Weren't about to show us slick?"
Johnny snorted. "These women have questionable tastes."
We all just laughed at that.
A minute later, Maggie arrived at our table.
"Ready to order, or are you just here to hit on bar wenches?" Maggie said with a teasing smile. She bent down to wipe the table with a rag, giving me a direct view of the valley beneath her linen blouse.
She didn't like it when that pirate called her a bar wench, but it looked like she had no problem calling herself a bar wench.
Maggie stood back up and turned to Johnny. "By the way, Eliza's only interested in big, strong men like your friend here," she said, nodding towards Ben with her chin. "Silk-bellied pups like you can't even make her wet."
Then she finally looked at me, waiting for my answer.
"Love, five mugs of your best rum, none of that watered piss," I said, casually placing a few shillings on the table. "Keep the extra for the view."
The glint of interest in her eyes deepened as she pocketed the coins, this time without even checking. She left with an extra sway in her hips.
"You interested in that ass, kid?" Ben asked with a smirk.
"Maybe," I said vaguely. With a smirk, I asked, "You interested in Eliza's ass? She's been checking you out since the moment you stepped in here."
Ben looked at the blonde bar wench. But then his face fell as he looked at his hands. "Forget it," he said, shaking his head.
"As if you could do anything even if you were interested," Johnny laughed. "You would've crushed her under a landslide."
"You have a problem, flame brain," Ben growled.
Before Johnny could retort, Reed cut in sharply. "Johnny, Ben, stop it. We don't have time for childish fights. Don't forget our mission. We still need to save Sue."
After the high of coming to another world, Reed's words made Johnny remember that his sister was still in danger. He sighed sadly, thinking of his sister, "Sorry, Reed."
A few minutes later, Maggie returned with a tray of tankards. She placed them one by one in front of us. She placed the last two in front of me, her fingers lightly brushing my knuckles when she pulled back her hand.
"Wanna sit with us, love?" I asked with a lazy smile. "Figured a woman like you deserves a better company than these piss-soaked pigs here." I nodded towards the room without breaking eye contact with her. "No offense to the pigs."
"Sweet tongue on you," Maggie laughed. She turned to the barkeep, "Frank, I am taking my break." The many only grunted in return. She brought an empty chair and sat beside me. I passed her the fifth mug.
I lifted the tankard and toasted her alone. "To the only soul in here worth the powder to blow the place sky-high."
Maggie snorted, looking amused. "You talk like you've got a death wish."
She leaned into me a notch, her eyes staring into mine. "What's your game, pretty boy? Looking to fuck me, rob me, or both?"
"Maybe," I said, leaning in, too. "But for now, I am content in sitting here and enjoying a mug of rum with pleasant company."
She leaned in further and then pulled back with a mischievous face. She picked up her tankard and took a sip of the rum.
We settled into a comfortable silence. Then a few minutes later, I broke it.
"Hey, Maggie," I called casually. She looked at me curiously. "Ever heard of some pirate captain Blackbeard? Word is he's big around these parts."
Reed, Ben, and Johnny went still but kept drinking, ears sharp.
"Blackbeard?" Maggie frowned. "Never heard the name. Famous, is he?"
"Guess I heard wrong," I said, shrugging it off.
My companions looked down, hearing that, but then recovered. They still had time to look for him.
Maggie placed her tankard down after finishing her drink. Her face looked slightly flushed, but it didn't look like she was drunk. She looked at me, then her gaze fell on my biceps. Fingers traced the muscle, then squeezed hard.
"You look like weak silk-belly, but you are solid down there," Maggie said, her hand still on my arm, her interest increasing.
I snorted internally. I didn't need to look like I ate steroids three meals a day to be strong.
"There is more from where they came from," I said, holding her stare. "Maybe we can go somewhere private, and I can show you all my muscles. You can feel them all you want."
"Cocky bastard," she breathed, voice husky. "Not scared you'll leave me disappointed?"
"Disappoint you?" I say, voice low and rough. "I don't do half-arsed. Put those hands on me again, and I'll make damn sure every muscle you feel is rock-hard."
Maggie tilted her head, dark hair spilling over one shoulder.
"Big talk," she murmured. "Words are cheap. I want proof."
Maggie got up and turned around. She looked back at me with upturned eyes, then looked back in front and started walking.
I looked at my companions at the table, "You guys continue, I'll be back in a short while."
"Have fun, kid," Ben rumbled, laughing deep.
I smirked, followed her swaying hips up the narrow stairs.
Since I was forced to come here, I had decided to enjoy my time here instead of mopping. And Maggie looked interesting.
Of course, I was aware of the dangers of such action. I was neither interested in taking an eighteenth-century disease back with me to the present, nor was I interested in leaving a bunch of bastards three centuries in the past. Fortunately, I had solutions for both these problems.
Maggie's status showed she was clean, no surprises, no hidden diseases. That solved the first problem.
As for the second problem, my newly learned magic spell helped with that.
Fertility Lock
Type: Spell
School: Eromancy
Rank: Novice
Description: Toggles the caster's fertility.
It was a simple spell that didn't increase or decrease fertility and was a simple on/off switch for fertility applied to the self.
The only reason I had even learned it was because I hated using condoms and hence never used them. At the same time, I didn't want my girls to continue taking those pills because of my preference. Hence, this spell.
It was because I didn't want to leave any unwanted accidents that I didn't find any casual partners while I was in the other world previously.
It was a pleasant coincidence that I had now learned this spell and could now enjoy my time in the past.
I came out of my thoughts and shifted my attention to Maggie, who entered one of the rental rooms of the tavern. She looked at me over her shoulder with inviting eyes.
I smirked, entered the room, and closed the door behind me.
Back at the bar area:
"The kid didn't even touch his rum," Ben said as his gaze fell on Kevin's untouched rum tankard after Kevin left with Maggie. "Oh well, more for me." Ben picked it up and chugged it in one gulp.
At a distant table, two pirates talked in hushed whispers.
"Reckon these clean strangers'd make fine crew," the first one rasped.
"But one already fucked off upstairs with Maggie," the second reminded.
"It doesn't matter if he left," the first pirate said dismissively. "One more or one less of a pup like him doesn't matter." He looked at Ben intently. "My main aim is that big fella right there. The rest are just extras."
"Can we even handle that brute?" the second asked, doubtful.
"One or two of us? No. Whole crew on the ship? Aye," the first pirate replied casually. "He'll bend or break."
The second pirate nodded in agreement.
"Come here, lass," the second pirate called Eliza.
Eliza sauntered to their table. "What d'you cunts want?"
"Slip this into their next drinks," the second pirate said, passing Eliza a small dark bottle while pointing in one direction.
Eliza looked in the direction the pirate was pointing to Ben and his group. She became angry as she was interested in Ben.
"Go fuck yerself on a rusty harpoon, ye shitstain," Eliza barked.
"Watch your words, wench," the first pirate warned.
"Or what?" Eliza snapped back.
"Easy," the second pirate cut in. He dangled a small pouch of coins in front of her and dropped it on the table. "Do it. You'll get paid proper."
Eliza looked at the shillings in the pouch, felt the weight, then snatched the bottle. "Pleasure doin' business, cunts."
A few minutes later, Eliza arrived at Ben's table with a tray with three tankards.
"On the house," Eliza said, placing a tankard in front of each of them. She winked slowly at Ben before turning away, hips rolling.
Seeing that, Johnny remembered how Eliza had torn him a new one and scowled. He glared at the laughing Ben and slammed the mug down in one angry gulp. Ben and Reed drained theirs quickly after.
A few minutes later, Johnny started feeling dizzy. First, he ignored it, but it became more intense, his vision spinning. Then Reed and Ben also started to feel dizzy. Then, quickly, Johnny fainted, and Reed and Ben followed soon after.
The pirates who had planned all this calmly walked towards them, with more joining them. They pulled Ben's group from the chairs and dragged their limp bodies outside the bar.
The barkeep kept pouring.
Eliza kept serving.
Patrons glanced once, then back to the dice, rum, and groping.
Nobody said shit.
Nobody moved to help.
Just another Tuesday in the pirate republic.
Some time later:
I climbed down the stairs after feeling refreshed. Maggie came behind me with a noticeable limp in her gait. Her hair still looked slightly disheveled even after she combed it quickly. Her blouse hung crooked, one sleeve slipping off her shoulder.
My eyes narrowed as I looked at the empty table where I sat.
Where are they?
I looked around the bar. The pirates had noticed me coming down. Most looked at me with indifference. A few smirked like they knew something I didn't.
Something happened.
I noticed Eliza looking at me from the corner of my eye. When I turned to her, she jerked her gaze away fast.
Suspicious.
I walked towards her calmly. "Where'd my mates go?"
"I don't know," Eliza said forcefully, chin up. "They left a while back."
I smiled slowly. "You are lying."
"Why would I lie?" Eliza shot back. Frank, the barkeep, looked towards me. "Don't disturb me, I have work to do," she said, turning around.
"Did I say you can leave?" I said when she turned around to leave.
"What do you want?" Eliza snapped.
I sighed. Hard way it is then.
I closed the gap, hand shot out, clamped her throat, lifted her clean off the floor. She choked, legs kicking air, nails scraping my wrist.
"What the hell are you doing?" Maggie barked from behind.
The bar patrons looked at me in stunned silence. They could believe a big guy like Ben if he had done the same thing. But when a "silk-bellied pup" like me showed such a feat of strength, their brains stopped processing.
"Put her down, lad," Frank said, coming out from behind the counter. A flintlock pistol in his hand was trained on me. He was easily six and a half feet tall, with bulging muscles. Guess you needed at least this much to run a bar filled with rowdy pirates and sailors.
I laughed and loosened my grip on Eliza's throat. She dropped hard, wheezing, curling on the floor. Maggie ran to her to support her.
"Leave the bar," Frank ordered. "You've had your fun."
I laughed again—a cold laugh.
I moved, and before Frank could react, a round-house kick kicked the pistol out of his hand. He looked at his empty hand, stunned.
I took another step into his personal space—a palm to his solar plexus and a punch to the temple. I didn't pull my punches while hitting. He went down like a sack of potatoes.
Gasps rippled across the room.
I turned back to Eliza. She scrambled back in panic, her eyes wide, her breath ragged. A smiled and walked towards her.
I crouched low to her level and grabbed her chin, forcing her gaze up.
"Tell me what you did if you don't want to get hurt again," I said, continuing to smile.
She cracked fast and spilled everything.
The girl has her priorities straight. I will give her that.
It was then that I remembered the canon events. In the canon, they were also kidnapped like that, waking up on a pirate ship in the middle of nowhere. And there, they would find their target.
Hmm, I guess they don't really need me and can complete the mission on their own, like the canon.
Then, should I accept that?
I opened the notification I had received the moment I had arrived here.
Congratulations on your first time travel.
As a reward, you may extend the duration of your current trip by up to seven days.
If you choose to extend it, you will return at the same moment Reed and the others arrive back in the present.
Previously, I thought of looking into it after we were done with Doom's mission. There was no penalty for leaving later than Reed and the others. So I thought that if I found something interesting to do, I would stay longer.
But what can I do in these seven days?
As I looked at the stunned pirates in the bar, an idea clicked in my brain.
I looked back at Eliza. She flinched at my gaze. "W-hat do you want?" She stammered. "I told you everything you asked."
I smiled wider.
"Where's the pirate crew with the fattest bounty in these waters?"
*********************
[Author's Notes]
How is the story so far?
I've noticed some recurring confusion, so I'll address it directly.
This is not an MCU fanfic.
It is a Marvel fanfic.
The primary setting is loosely based on Earth-616, but I freely incorporate elements from other Marvel universes and even other fictional works when it serves the story.
For example, Colleen Wing's Chikara Dojo is inspired by the MCU, while her characterization draws more from Earth-616.
This is a dark fic.
The world is written with a degree of realism, which means you will encounter morally uncomfortable elements. That will not change.
Do not read this story expecting romance.
There is very little of it, and that is intentional.
Kevin is not a romantic protagonist—he is a manipulative, controlling, and self-serving asshole.
The women associated with him are not written as traditional love interests.
And yes—this is deliberate.
Regarding NTR: I do not write it as a fetish.
However, this is not a sanitized wish-fulfillment story where everything bends in the protagonist's favor.
Kevin does not consider someone "his" unless they are completely his.
And once they are, that does not change.
At the same time, relationships in this story are not idealized. They are flawed, imbalanced, and often uncomfortable—because that fits the narrative's tone.
That said, this is still a fanfic.
There will always be elements of wish-fulfillment—but they exist within the rules of this world, not above them.