The link is only in the original post inside an image, not as text, so here it is as plain text: https://glaze.cs.uchicago.edu/
and the paper about how it works: https://arxiv.org/abs/2302.04222
A bit of a TLDR for some questions I saw in the notes:
The team that created Glaze is from the University of Chicago. Their names are each listed in full on the Glaze download website. (This group of students/professors did this for their SPRING BREAK 😱 so go give them some love lol)
It is free to download. No, they won’t ask for or raise money from/for this project.(stated by one of the lead professors of the project).
Glaze is designed to protect artists’ STYLE--which a bunch of ai people have been deliberately fine-tuning their models to mimic (and specifically of current living artists--small or big).
It currently does not protect against composition/trace-like theft (as seen when run through img-to-img) but that would be protected by copyright anyway while STYLE is not.
The University Team has stated that they are dedicated to continuing to improve the tool, like fixing bugs (like overheating older computers by taking up lots of energy when Glazing--it currently runs on CPU so they’re trying to change that to GPU, I believe) and expanding the type of protection given to artists (like working against img-to-img theft).
It currently only works directly on your computer (phones not advised due to current overheating issue, no tablets, or iPads, and no website runthrough since that would be insecure to breaches/scraping/hacks)
It currently works best on painterly artwork, but can still be used on other forms (team is working on improving this)
IT WORKS BY calculating the changes each image needs for the best protection against style theft by AI, and adds tiny changes throughout the piece, so that your style will, for example, confuse the ai into seeing van gogh. But the ai thieves will see a regular image in your style, feeding it into their model labeled as your work (thus starting the “data poisoning”).
Do not post the original unGlazed piece of your artwork after posting your Glazed version (obviously)
The Team worked directly with over 1,000 artists that were being impacted by the ai theft. Because the team listened to those artists, Glaze accounts for regular art thieves too (i.e. Glaze can’t be removed/cropped etc. like signatures or watermarks when reposted. It’s just part of the image, so even if it ends up on another site and scraped, the Glazing is still in effect)
When you run your artwork through Glaze, no information is sent back to the Team. (Aka, no scraping on their part. The app receives information from the Team (like updates) but no information from you is given to them through the app. Basically Team servers ---> You and NOT Team servers <--->You) One-way data street.
Brief misunderstanding happened over an open-source license for the front-end part of the app. (Used open-source coding for front-end, not knowing that code’s use-license states it is only for other open-source uses, not closed-source (the back-end code of the app is private to prevent counter-counter measure developments)). The Team took down the app until they replaced the front-end code with code written from scratch by the team. They are now not in violation of that open-source license since they are no longer using it. (you have 30 days to remedy a license breach once informed; they did so in 2)
The Team is currently in touch with Japanese artists to better expand the tool for use to protect their art styles
From what I understand of it, Glaze is an AI tool designed to be anti-AI (Think Arnold Schwarzenegger in Terminator 2: one Terminator robot vs. all the other Terminators 😂)
You can download it from their website and also contact them through email there with any questions, problems, or bugs. The website: https://glaze.cs.uchicago.edu/
Alright I haven't posted a non reblog for ages let's see how this goes.
I think that season 1 of Once Upon a Time is an underrated goldmine for crack or crack treated seriously fanfiction. Mostly because of nthe fact that only a select few people have knowledge of the long winded and deeply complex backstories of the fairytale world. What was Regina's plan going to be if Snow decided she actually liked the mayor, did random citizens keep pestering Mr Gold in attempts to get him to join clubs or something, this weird Storybrooke scenario that Regina had trapped everyone in is a completely unpredictable scenario that can't have entirely gone her way even before Emma showed up. Admittedly they were in a weird time loop where nothing could change, but this is just set up.
What I'm trying to get to is, how hilarious would it have been if Emma was attracted to Regina in season one? Like, Regina, being her territorial self, but also keeping up appearences, and Emma just thinks 'well, good news kiddo, I have an idea for how to be your mum again'
Regina in episode one: I will destroy you if it's the last thing I do.
Emma: Well first of all, bitch, second of all god damn that's hot....
I don't even remember what point in season 1 Regina realises that Emma is the saviour, and that just makes this funnier. Like, how would season 1 Regina react to Emma flirting with her, not even actually wanting to date her, just regularly hitting on her because, hey, when in Rome. Jesus, what would poor HENRY think? This wasn't the plan.
This isn't even in character very much, I just find the idea amusing, there's a reason this has my favourite AO3 tag on it.
The predator Killer of Killers's stories are the best kind of Predator stories. We are watching an entire different film, and suddenly the predator shows up and we are in a different genre.
And they are good stories before the switch too. Like I wanted to see more about the bloody viking action story, or the tragic japanese drama or historical war movie, but we can't see those stories because a Yautja shows up, and now it's a horror scifi film baby.
Most of the predator movies do this in fact. Predator 1987 starts as a millitary action flick, Predator 2 is like a murder mystery cop thriller, Alien vs Predator starts more like an Alien movie till the predators show up, The Predator 2018 was...a mess, and Prey 2022 is a historical coming of age story. Not sure where Pedators 2010 fits into this unfortunately.
My point is, although I very much love the Historical predators idea, part of me is intrigued about more genre swap movies being made. Like a heist movie, maybe they need to steal something from a museum, but it turns out to be a piece of technology/armor that the predator wants, or break someone out of prison, but it's someone the yautja had been hunting before they were arrested. Maybe a disaster movie, bunch of people get trapped on a mountain, with the predator. A stephen king esc horror movie that the predator highjacks, family goes on holiday to a quaint rural town that's actually a murderous cult, the predator wants to hunt the murderous cult for fun. Or, an existential, thought provoking drama about a depressed retired war veteran writing an autobiography about his past, and we keep cutting to a depressed retired predator who kept trying to kill him throughout these flashbacks.
Torres is a delight, but I will admit he is very different to the other protagonist in the franchise. Then again, it's to be expected. It's been said that the key to making a predator movie is to start making a different movie, then drop a predator into it. Predator 1987 was a high octaine action movie, Predator 2 was more of a crime murder mystery/cop drama, Alien vs Predator was an Alien movie that the predators highjacked, The Predator was hot garbage, and Prey was a Historical coming of age story. Predators is the only one that doesn't seem to follow this trend so much. Torres seems to me to be the sort of protagonist who's told 'That stunt could have gotten everyone killed, but damn if that wasn't some excellent flying pilot.' Unlike past protagonists, Torres managed to more or less maintain his genre based abilities and turn the tables on the predator.
ALSO, for my Legend of Korra Rewrite, there’s an opera house in Republic City, and they do their own production of “The Boy in the Iceberg.”
It’s heavily inspired by Beijing/Peking Opera, native to China, and I’ve been having way too much fun writing this truly ridiculous, over romanticised version of the original AtLA story 😂 First off, the costumes and props—Now, Peking Opera has a set of rules/guidelines for what colours mean what, which costumes go to what kind of character, and which face paint is appropriate for this and that person, but hardly any of it aligns with the world of AtLA, so it will have its own rules. Naturally, the people are colour coded. Blue = Water Tribe, Red = Fire Nation, Green = Earth kingdom, Yellow = Air Bender. How can you tell if a character is royalty or super important? If they’re wearing any kind of elaborate headpiece. How can you tell who the Avatar is? The Avatar alone has special face paint that covers his entire face. Also, how light or dark their clothing is can inform you of their badness level, and also also, if a character’s hands are covered, it usually means they are hiding something or are very sly and cunning.
Then there’s the bending. Airbending is represented by the staff illustrated above, with two tufts of blue fluffy stuff on either end, similar to what the Ember Island Players did. This prop is very similar to a real one used in Peking Opera. Waterbending is achieved in two forms, either with long sleeves or ribbons, both used for dancing. Also straight from Peking Opera. Fire Bending is achieved through flags/staffs very similar to Peking Opera and the Ember Island Players alike. Finally, Earthbending comes across more like hand-to-hand combat in the choreography, because they use large fans to represent their element, inspired by Kiyoshi, and real life Peking Opera.
Now, the story is hilariously fun—it’s been eighty years since the events of the war, and the story has been dramatised to the Poles and back—so strap in and just imagine what the Gaang would be saying in reaction to all of this 😂
Once, there was a prince and a princess of the Southern Water Tribe. Prince Sokka was a brave and mighty warrior, and Princess Katara was the most beautiful and intelligent woman in all the South Pole. One day, they happened across a glowing iceberg, and from within emerged the Avatar! Avatar Aang was a very playful and mischievous boy (think “The Monkey King”), and upon seeing the beautiful Princess Katara, he immediately fell in love and proposed to her. But the mighty Prince Sokka took offence at such cheekiness, and challenged Avatar Aang to a duel to defend his sister’s honour. Here we have the first of many action scenes. Ultimately, Avatar Aang defeats the prince, proving his worth and proving that he is in fact the real Avatar, but when he asks the princess again if she’ll marry him, she replies that she might, if he can teach her to waterbend.
It’s about this time that Zuko, the Banished Prince of the Fire Nation, and his uncle, General Iroh, the Dragon of the West, arrive to capture the Avatar!
They are unsuccessful of course, and Team Avatar escapes. They go to the Southern Air Temple where Avatar Aang grieves the loss of his people, and then he suddenly gets a vision from his past life, Avatar Roku. Here, it is explained that Sozin’s comet is fast approaching, and Avatar Aang must learn all four elements before it comes, or else the whole world will burn. Having received his instructions, the team sets a course for the North Pole. (Oh, and Momo is represented by an actor who’s a type of “clown” as Peking Opera puts it. There to be the comic relief. Not sure if I want the same for Appa…)
At the North Pole, Aang and Katara learn waterbending, and the Chief throws a massive party to celebrate the return of the Avatar. This is where Prince Sokka meets Princess Yue of the Northern Tribe, and they fall madly in love. But it is not to last. Zuko and Iroh have arrived with a Fire Nation fleet and lay siege to the city of the North. In their darkest hour, just before the city falls, Princess Yue sacrifices herself to the Moon Spirit, saving everyone, but losing her mortality in the process. It is said that she now lives on the moon, weeping to this very day for the loss of her one true love. (Keeping in mind, Tui and La are now a state secret, as no one wants a repeat of “Admiral Zhao,” who coincidentally, is nothing but a footnote in the history books due the secrecy of the moon and ocean spirit’s physical home.)
Then, of course, the second act begins with Avatar Aang asking if Katara will marry him now that she’s learned Waterbending. But the princess is far too crafty for him, and becomes sly yet again. This time she says, she might marry him if he can find for her the impossibly rare Panda Lily. Aang is determined, though it may take him a while.
Team Avatar journeys to the Earth Kingdoms in search of an Earthbending master. Now, although the rumours of Toph being a man did stick around for quite a while (helped in no small part by Toph herself) eventually the truth comes out, and the play is amended accordingly. HOWEVER… no one is convinced that Toph is an ordinary human, oh no no no. They believe, whole heartedly, that she is a direct descendant of the badgermoles themselves, and is therefore some kind of half-human-half-spirit type being who sprouted up out of the ground one day. They fear her. As they should.
So Azula and her girlies make their appearance and they and Team Avatar make their way to Ba Sing Se, where they run into Zuko and Iroh, officially outcast from the royal Fire Nation family for failing to capture the Avatar at the Siege of the North. Azula infiltrates the city by impersonating the Kiyoshi warriors (who mysteriously replace the Dai Li in this story, and all mention of the city being controlled by a puppet master and brainwashing people is also mysteriously absent) and we meet Suki, leader of the Kiyoshi warriors, and she and Sokka begin to fall in love. Then, Aang manages to find the rare Panda Lily, but he’s not able to give it to Katara because the Last Stand of Ba Sing Se begins. There’s a massive fight at the palace, and Aang gets struck by lightning and falls into Princess Katara’s arms, trying to give her that Panda Lily she asked for. Then he falls into slumber as Princess Katara weeps. Zuko joins his sister Azula, Iroh is captured, and team Avatar flees.
That night, Katara begs the spirits to spare Avatar Aang, and Yue appears, bringing Aang back to life. It’s at this time that she gives the team a grave warning about the journey ahead of them. She reveals to them that the Day of Black Sun may aid them in their fight against the Fire Nation, and she also gives Sokka a special gift: a sword carved from moon rock. May it serve him well.
End of act two.
Act three begins with the mighty Sokka rallying all their allies together to launch an assault on the Fire Nation on the Day of Black Sun. Meanwhile, the Fire Prince Zuko battles with himself over his decision to betray his uncle and join his sister. He thinks of his mother, and how she would not have wanted him to follow the path of his father, Firelord Ozai. On the Day of Black Sun, he chooses to redeem himself by helping Avatar Aang defeat the Firelord once and for all. The battle was fierce—Princess Katara feared that she might lose Avatar Aang yet again—but when they arrived at his palace, no one was home. The Firelord was very crafty. He devised a labyrinth beneath his palace in which to hide, and he evaded the Avatar until the eclipse was over. The day was lost. Team Avatar was forced to retreat. However, now Aang had a Firebending Master to teach him the final element.
After much training, and much preparation, Aang was ready to face Firelord Ozai on the day that Sozin’s Comet came ripping across the sky. He tried to ask Princess Katara one last time if she would marry him, and this time she replied that if he survived his fight with the Firelord… she would marry him.
It began. Prince Sokka, Warrior Suki, and Master Toph led the charge against the Firelord’s army. Prince Zuko and Princess Katara held off Princess Azula, and Avatar Aang took on Firelord Ozai alone. Using all that they had learned across their journey, fuelled by the power of friendship and love, Team Avatar prevailed. The Firelord’s army fell, Princess Azula fell, and finally, Firelord Ozai himself fell before the mighty Avatar Aang. (Aang’s ability to energybend remains a secret.) And in the end, Prince Zuko took the throne of the Fire Nation, Prince Sokka took the throne of the South Pole with Suki as his queen, Toph became known as the greatest Earthebnder in the world, uncle Iroh opened the best tea shop in the world, and Princess Katara agreed to marry Avatar Aang. It was a happy ending indeed.
Can’t wait to finish the costume designs! Let me know what you think!
AU where victorian animal control catches dracula straight off the demeter and the rest of the book is a 101 dalmations or lady and the tramp-style plot of London’s dogs trying to stop him
Where Mark Grayson having a sister changes everything and nothing.
You were privileged in a lot of ways; a nice house in the suburbs, a mother that worked in real estate, a father that wrote travel guides after seeing his novels weren’t doing so well, and they both never laid a hand on you. They were reasonable and raised you with a firm but kind hand. Well, maybe your mother more than your superhero father. But even with his usual absences, you and your brother were without a doubt loved. You are grateful, you really are. On top of the warmth provided by your household, you’re special. You’re different than the rest of the general population, with your father sure you’d inherit the powers inherent to his, your, alien heritage. You had the means to do something greater. A purpose. A higher calling.
People lamented not having such a clear path. Yet, you only felt a growing hollowness in your chest. As if you were barely tethered to reality. And you had no real reason to feel that way, at first. Your mom made sure she was there at every moment, every milestone. Your dad, while busy with his heroics, who would always throw you in the air and catch you in his strong arms, always picking up your favourite pastry from a bakery in the Netherlands. Your younger brother looked up to you with stars in eyes, pestering you to play with him.
But even then, you felt aimless. Apprehensive. Empty when you’re left alone, no one to distract you, and only your thoughts to reign freely.
Your dad had shared his origin with you and Mark when you were twelve and nine year olds. Adding to the puberty talk your mom had already given to you. Mark was excited. Why wouldn’t he be? Awesome powers and a future wearing spandex? That was every kid’s dream. Even you felt anticipation at being able to fly one day.
But the planet your father came from, Viltrumite, only gave you anxiety. Devoting yourself to protect the weak, to the point you’d have to leave your own home planet was a daunting task. You don’t know how your father could do it. Protecting strangers so far from home. You liked the comfort of home. Of being with your family. You didn’t even know what you wanted to be when you grow up.
After your dad sent you two to bed that night, you started up at the glow in the dark stars that covered your ceiling in quiet contemplation. You heard your bedroom door slowly creak open. From beneath your blanket, you slowly pushed yourself up.
“Get in here already,” you call and in an instant, he’s climbed onto your bed, starting at you with barely restrained energy. “Getting a bit too old to need a sleep buddy, Mark.”
Your brother shoves at your shoulder indignantly, “I can sleep by myself! And you sleep with stuffed animals!”
“Hey, stuffed animals are for all ages, you’re never too old for them.”
“That’s not what I came here for!” He protests, “We’re aliens!”
“Half-aliens,” you correct, bringing your knees to your chest.
“Same thing! And—and dad’s Omni-man!” He babbles, a far cry from his quiet awe while he listened to your dad earlier.
“I mean, yeah, Mark. I don’t understand how people don’t know, the moustache is a dead giveaway,” you respond. “And you know I like Darkwing and War Woman more.”
Mark calls out your name in frustration, “Aren’t you even a little psyched? We’re going to be heroes! We could be…Omni Boy and Girl!”
You squint at him in the darkness of your room, “Maybe workshop the names a bit more, and that’s not going to happen for a while. I mean, you should be more concerned on whether or not you’re going to grow or not. It’s not looking good, midget.”
Mark, done with your jackass behaviour, lets out a war cry and tackles you off the bed, landing on one of your ridiculously big stuffed animals. You two laughed as you grappled and shoved at each other, only freezing when the light flickers on.
Your mom stares at you menacingly from the doorway.
Your powers came in when you were thirteen. You had been in school, a teacher droning on about trigonometry, and you felt the telltale signs of tinnitus. When your ears popped, you could hear more than you could even comprehend. You slammed your hands over your ears but you could still hear everything. Dozens of teachers talking to their own classes, the gossip of students, the pipes below, and even the creaking of your school’s infrastructure. Ignoring your teacher’s protests, you left. Running through the halls, for the first and not last time, you ditched school, exiting the building.
Your dad found you across town, in a desolate park, grass overgrown and with splintering benches. It was quiet. Quieter. Away from the noise of traffic and crowds.
He had simply stared at your huddled form before picking you up, and flew high. Higher and higher until the only thing you could focus on was the infinite blue of the sky, fluffy white clouds surrounding you two. Your dad rubbed a large hand over your head comfortingly.
“Usually, strength or flight kicks in before the enhanced senses gradually appear for Viltrum children. But it happened all at once for you. Not unheard of, but definitely unlucky,” your father explains, looking down at your with a complicated look in his eyes. “I knew you would get your powers, but I didn’t…prepare myself or you for it.”
At your silence, he continues, “Your mom was worried when she got that call from school. It’s not everyday your kid pulls a jailbreak from school. So why don’t we go let her know you’re okay and we’re going to start training you. Get you up in the sky and you’ll be able to go to that pop cafe you like so much in Tokyo.”
“Pokémon cafe, dad,” you correct, “Mark’s going to be so jealous.”
He laughs, “Soon enough both of you will be like your old man, thrashing monsters and then…”
When he trails off, he only shakes his head and asks if you want to pick up some food before you go home.
Your brother groans and moans at how he’s going to have to wait to get his powers while you’ll be out with dad. Your mom forbids you from going out as a hero as a middle schooler, not that you’d object. Your dad…
Your dad has always had his obligations. You wouldn’t call him absent, but your mom was the one you’d come home to and the one to tuck you and Mark in every night. So it felt like you were getting to really know him for once. He told you more about his home as he helped you fly, not unlike how any other dad would help their kids learn how to ride a bike.
You don’t really go into detail about your lessons with Mark because you know he’d sulk.
You don’t tell your mom because don’t you want to be cause of a disagreement or fight.
You wouldn’t call yourself an inquisitive kid, but there was something unrealistic about Viltrum. You could believe that food shortages and illness could be eliminated. That technology beyond what you could even imagine what out there. What you couldn’t believe was that indisputable peace could exist.
Conflict, idiocy, and more polluted humans. Any living being that had thought that went beyond survival and instinct would inevitably have their own selfish and nefarious thoughts. The cost of free will. Were humans worst off than other species out there? Surely strife was equal.
Humanity isn’t all bad, of course. That’s why even though there’s hurt and pain in the world, people will always have the ability to make their own choices.
Your dad’s brow knitted whenever you discussed this particular topic. There was a certain superiority he had, which was understandable when you were the strongest on Earth, but it seems to have bled into a certain resentment towards the people he was supposed to protect.
Other times, he described beings like you as shepherds, to herd the flock of sheep. He emphasized duty and responsibility, having to make the hard choices that no one else could make. What those ‘choices’ were, you had no idea.
(Sometimes his face contorts when he thinks you’re not looking. With what emotions is a question you stay up thinking about.)
Your dad is patient with you, a good teacher, really. But there are instances where he’s anxious, rushed as if there is something looming behind him.
(He hits hard enough to having you tearing up at his worst moment before his face twists with regret as he moves to comfort you.
Frustration shines through his eyes when you seem disinterested in your training, wanting to play games with Mark instead. A moment later, he relents. His strange mood remains for a couple hours before disappearing like it never happened.
Neither of you mention it.)
When you’re in high school, your dad takes you to get a proper suit from Arthur. The old man reminiscing with your dad with a comfortable ease. They’re friends, you note. It’s nice to see your dad have these moments with people outside of your family.
Your brother had recommend ‘Omni-Girl’ as a your hero name, but you immediately vetoed it. A title wasn’t too important to you since you were just shadowing your dad. You didn’t feel too motivated to throw yourself out in to the thick of it.
(“You see, sometimes it takes more then one punch to finish the job,” your father explains while holding up an armadillo like beast, “So, don’t become discouraged and don’t be afraid to just let them have it.”
And with that he began pummelling the beast.
“Okay, dad.”)
Eventually your dad’s gentle suggestions to be more proactive become firm orders.
(Your dad is cruel sometimes. To his enemies. Even to you. His grip on you too tight and his words too demeaning. He backs away in regret, apologizes, and buys you whatever food you want afterward.)
You begin to patrol aimlessly. You started out with minor conflicts; muggings and other assholes looking to take advantage of other people. Then you began fighting with super powered criminals, ones that could actually stun you or even hurt you. You weren’t too invested in your hero responsibilities, especially since there were more than enough people to pick up the slack. It was a good after school activity at least.
(You used to be on the field hockey team, but after getting your powers, it would just be unfair. People could get hurt.)
You noticed things getting increasingly difficult. You never anticipated how much things would weigh on you. Having to ignore the screams of helped you were forced to tune into because you didn’t want to fail a midterm. People getting hurt or killed because you weren’t fast enough, that you making the wrong choice or move would always have consequences. The same villains would continue to break out and continue to hurt others, you would beat them to a pulp, take note of the casualties, and the cycle would restart.
You alone had the power and capabilities to make a difference in the lives of so many people. People that can’t rely on the Guardians or Omni-Man to be everywhere. Your inaction alone outweighs the sins of many, you realize.
(Mark calls your name. You jolt out of your thoughts. He had out walked you and was now looking back at you in confusion.
“Why are you so slow? Come on!” The now teen complains, urging you to speed up.
“Dude, it’s not like 7/11 is going to suddenly run out of slushies,” you retort, but jog to catch up with him.
“Why can’t you just fly us?” Mark asks, “We would have been home already.”
“What,” you laugh incredulously, “someone could see us and then they’ll know there’s a super in the neighbourhood, and then boom. You’ll have gotten us doxxed, Mark, and we’ll have to put you and mom in some protection program!”
“Overdramatic much? And it’s not like anyone cares about ‘Singularity’,” Mark whispers the last part, quickly glancing around the empty street. “And that’s such a lame hero name, by the way!”
“You don’t even know what it means,” you scoff.
“And you do? I bet you got it from one of those RPGs you’re always playing!”
“Nah, I just got it from some song.”)
Mark is thirteen and he still hasn’t gotten his powers like you had. Outside the house, your dad looks more worried than Mark does. He rests a hand on your shoulder, tells you that one day you’ll have to step up more. That you need to watch over your brother while he’s just human. When he says that, he looks more calm then you’ve seen him in a long time.
Your mom looks at you worriedly when your back is turned. You get it, you aren’t the most social and your beginning to think your mom knows you don’t really have any friends at school now that she no longer tries to get you to invite anyone over.
You just tease Mark and debate with dad until you feel her worry lessen.
You’re tired. You don’t really have a plan for the future. You try not to think about it too much.
(“We Viltrumites…far outlive humans. Eventually, your aging will slow down enough that while your peers will be old and grey, you won’t even look thirty,” your father reveals one evening. The two of you stand at the peak of Mount Everest, watching the sun set in a mirage of pink and orange. It’s beautiful. “Just, don’t get too attached. One day, it will just be us. Don’t let your heart get broken.”
“What about mom? Mark?” You ask. “If…he’s not like us.”
Your father is silent, he doesn’t deny the possibility, “Then we stay with them. Till the end.”
You don’t ask what you do after.)
You wonder if this is how you’ll spend your days. Fighting and fighting as everything changes around you. Do you stop when you can’t recognize what this planet has become?
You’re not particularly skilled or even much of a good person. You’re more than aware of that. You’re selfish. You’re just human, despite your alien blood. Maybe humans and Viltrumites aren’t too different.
(You’re falling. A giant mecha just tossed you out of the city. People are screaming and running away in terror. No matter how much you punch it and how brutal you are in tearing it apart, it keeps rebuilding itself. It’s been hours. By now, people have already evacuated. You’re exhausted and hungry. You want to go home. You don’t want to be here anymore. But, no one else is coming, it’s just you. This can’t be anyone else’s responsibility but yours.
But, you let yourself fall. You could catch yourself. You don’t. The absolute idiot you are, you don’t catch yourself. You can fly, but you don’t.
You land on someone. You can’t tell their gender or even how old they are. How could you, when you’re sitting in the red, mushy remains of them. They’re nothing more than a bloody mess on the ground. You’re covered in a mix of their fluids and organs. You’re screaming. You can’t stop.
Your dad finds you.
“It’s not your fault.”
“It happens.”
“One life versus thousands.”
“They’re insignificant…in the grand scheme of things. People die so easily. Disease, traffic accidents, even just fading away in their asleep.”
You don’t feel any better.
When you get back home, the two of you eat dinner as mom complains about a client.
You two don’t mention anything about the mecha, despite Mark’s begging, besides that it’s been taken care of.)
You stop fighting the evil geniuses and beasts that were always around, demanding attention from the public. You focus on the monsters that hide in the shadows. The ones that aren’t broadcasted on the news. The ones that take advantage of those weaker. Traffickers and gangs. Women, children, and drugs seem to be what’s circulated. Every time you take down one ring, ten more seem to pop up. It’s just as relentless as the usual villainous devastation.
They work in even the most populated cities, keeping everyone down. Girls go missing and people find themselves in debt to loan sharks that never yield.
No one’s around to see you beat normal people and the occasional super-powered thug to mush.
(“You’re doing good work,” Cecil compliments you, watching as his agents usher victims away from the remains of their prisons. They glance at you as they pass. You pretend you don’t notice. “Wasn’t expecting you to start handling the dirty work. We tend leave this kind of thing to our agents.”
You remain silent. Your father doesn’t answer to him. Neither do you. It was nothing personal. You just didn’t want to feel like a tool, more than you already do, at least.
“I get it. You like to work alone, just like your old man. But it would be better for the victims if you’re at least in contact with us. I— we can help.” Cecil offers you an earpiec .
You hesitate, “Don’t contact me for anything besides leads. I don’t do the whole public hero thing anymore.”
He smirks, “Sure, kid.”)
Your dad stares at you in confusion, and then irritation. You two argue.
“You don’t have to deal with this,” he struggles to find the words, “We’re above this. Squashing insects doesn’t make you any smarter or stronger. This isn’t growth. You’ll never change things, not really. You can’t change humanity.”
“I thought you were here to make a peaceful world,” you interject, “How can you do that if you think people are doomed to be infinitely cruel? Have you given up? You’re literally on a committee with the express purpose of helping people, which I’m doing! Throwing the same morons back into prison isn’t doing anything either!”
“Are you really prepared to change things? To change this world? To see the actual value of humans?” He questions with an intensity that cuts the words in your throat. “Do you think you’re ready?”
“Ready? What are you talking about?” You watch him place a hand over his face before turning away. “Dad?”
“Right now, you can’t make the hard choices,” your father concludes.
You two don’t resolve your disagreement, neither of you willing to bend.
Your mother and Mark try to ease the uncomfortable tension when the both of you are home.
“So, uh, how goes the heroing?” Mark asks, cutting into his lasagna.
“Fine,” you and your dad grunt before glaring at each other.
“And this isn’t awkward at all.”
(Your mom strokes your hair. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re going after…a different kind of danger?”
“Not really something to talk about over dinner,” you mumble, laying your head in her lap. “Or brag about.”
“I’m so proud of you.”
You stiffen.
“You’re helping so many people, my baby is a hero. You’re doing so good,” she whispers as your body shakes with sobs, “You always see what others don’t. My considerate girl.”)
You graduate. Rather than go to school, you pick up a camera. You get pictures of heroes no one else can get, see views that only you can find. You also don’t mind doing wedding pictures for some extra cash. You travel, you sometimes run into your dad in the skies. You two are better now. He probably sees your motivations as a phase. And maybe he’s right when it comes to near immortal beings.
Things are okay. Everything seems kind of grey, dull, even, but it’s okay.
Mark calls you one night. He got his powers. Something in you shrivels up. A foreboding feeling washing over you.
You come home. You and your dad sit at the kitchen table.
“You look like the world is ending,” you comment, narrowing your eyes when he doesn’t immediately reply. “I thought you were waiting for him to…become like us.”
“Things are going to be busy with me training Mark for the next little bit,” he speaks up, “I’d appreciate it if you stepped up a bit more.”
“…why? You seemed on top of things when I got my powers,” you note.
“We don’t have that kind of time anymore, Mark is already a late bloomer. I need to get him to your level as soon as possible. You’ve been slacking off on your training too. You’re only getting faster and your senses might be better than mine, but you need to get stronger, to stop holding back,” he stares down at his hands, clenching and unclenching them.
“You’re acting like you’re on a deadline,” you observe, “Are you okay?”
“Just,” he breathes out, “keep an eye out.”
Before you can say anything else, you hear your mom shuffle out of bed above you.
“Alright.”
Mark begins his training and your dad is weirdly wired. A tension residing in him. It’s noticeable to you and your mother.
(You find yourself comparing Mark to a cocoon. Metamorphosis. It’s hard to believe how much he’s grown. How much he’s growing. Who he’ll become.
Invincible, he declares as his name.
“Why can I still see you?” You ask, lounging on his bed.
“You’re not funny,” he scowls. You push yourself up.
“It’s a good name,” you smile at him. “But you do know we can still get the crap beaten out of us, even dad.”
“I know that!” Mark protests, throwing a pillow at you. You catch it and throw it with more than a little force.
Mark huffs as he catches it before, sending it back. And before you know it, you two are tussling like you’re kids again, trying to put the other in a headlock.
“Someone is suddenly a little too confident,” you laugh, before shoving him into the wall.
“And I think someone needs to knock you down a peg, you tyrant! You can’t bully me anymore!” Mark lunges at you but you simply step out of the way as he crashes onto the floor.
He huffs before letting out a chuckle, “We haven’t roughhoused like this since…you got your powers, I think.”
You pause, “I mean if I bumped into you too hard, you’d probably explode.”
“Hey! I wasn’t that scrawny!”
“No, that’s not what I mean. Just be careful around other people.” You warn before grinning, “I mean, yeah, you’ve always been a bit of a late bloomer so I did have to be extra delicate with you—!”
With a battle cry, Mark charges at you as you two begin grappling again. You both freeze when you hear your mom clearing her throat at the doorway.
“Sorry, mom.”
“My bad.”)
You meet your dad at the peak of Mount Everest once again. You’ve both gotten into the habit of visiting when you needed to think. He hasn’t come in a while.
“Sweetheart, do you trust me?” He asks finally turning to stare at you, bathed in orange light as the sky turns to dusk. “That I want the best for you and your brother. Your mother.”
“Of course I do, dad,” you say honestly. Despite his faults, he’s your dad and you know that he loves his family above all else.
“Then I need you to be strong. Stronger than you’ve ever been before.” He brings you in for a hug, cradling your head as if you were still a little girl. “You should go home tonight. I’ll be out late.”
“Okay, dad.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, get some rest.”
You don’t see him tomorrow, not really.
Your mom and brother jolt when they see you come down the stairs, wiping the sleep out of your eyes. Both of them already ready to start their day, unlike you.
“Honey, I didn’t realize you were here!” Your mom exclaims.
Your brother shoots you a look, “When did you even get here?”
“A couple of hours ago,” you yawn halfway through your words. “Dad not home?”
Your mom frowns, “No, he didn’t come back last night.”
“Mom, stop worrying,” Mark reassures her, “he probably got buried under a mountain again or something.”
You remain silent as she chuckles, “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
She heads to the door after telling you she bought more of your usual tea from the store as Mark picks up a box of cereal. “Don’t be late for school—“
You hear her gasp as two men in black stand outside your door.
Donald leads you into a government operated hospital, his exchange with Mark passing over you.
You’ve been here before. A couple of times. When you were inexperienced. You’ve never seen your dad beaten enough to warrant a visit.
Your brother and mother rush into his room, your father laying unconscious on a gurney, hooked up to different beeping machines. You stagger a bit behind them, noticing Cecil in the corner, who nods at you.
Your ears are buzzing as you look away, watching your mother already hover above your father.
“Who did this?” Mark asks sharply.
“We have no idea,” Cecil cuts in, as everyone turns to look at him. “Not yet, anyway. But we’ll find out and when we do, they’ll look a hell of a lot worse than your dad over there.”
He introduces himself to Mark, shaking his hand before acknowledging your mom. “Deborah. I’m so sorry.”
She stands up, glaring, “Cecil, you’ve got a lot of nerve—!”
“Someone murdered the Guardians of the Globe last night,” he interrupts as your mother gasps and your brother lets out an astonished ‘oh my god’.
It takes every muscle in your body to not flinch as you stare down at your comatose dad. Your dad never joined their team despite their numerous offers. He said liked to work alone. Even if attended their numerous parties and get togethers. Even when he laughed with them.
Cecil sighs, “All of them. Tore them down limb from limb. We tried like hell to bring them back, but Nolan was the only survivor.”
“How is that even possible?” Mark asks.
“We don’t know yet. We also don’t know why your dad was at Guardians HQ,” Cecil continues. “A working theory is whoever killed the Guardians, lured him down there to try to wipe them all out at once.”
You ignore Mark’s confusion and Cecil’s pragmatism. Your mother’s tearful demands wash over you, distraught that even your father could have a brush with death.
But you can’t focus on that.
You exit the room.
You might have been the last person your father saw before the attack yesterday. No, you know you were the last one.
(“—do you trust me?”)
“Your brother is out dealing with an invasion,” Cecil informs you, finding your crouched form in the hallway over.
You jolt up, “Where?”
He raises an eyebrow at you, “Not your area of focus, right? I’ve already sent the Teen Team to assist him.”
You’ve met them before. Members in between yours and Mark’s age. They asked you to join them, maybe two years ago.
“He’s new,” you remark, “I should—“
“Singularity,” Cecil interrupts, something he seems fond of doing, “You’re currently the strongest person on Earth.”
You freeze.
“I respect you. You do the work no one notices or wants to notice. The stuff that’s hard to digest. You don’t do it for the fame or recognition. I understand why you don’t want to get involved with the government, but I need your cooperation right now. Whoever did this could come after you next—“
You doubt it.
“And we need someone to pick up the slack more than ever. Can I count on you? Even if it means you’ll be out in the light?”
“Okay,” you nod.
“That easy?” He asks. You shrug.
“What do you need me to do?”
“As much as you can.”
You’ve never not lived in a cycle. You’re back where you started. Just beating down the bad guy that Cecil points you at.
Dragons, hairy beasts, and the Lizard League.
You’d rather you do it than Mark. He has enough to worry about.
You wonder what’s going to happen now. Cecil was using you to close the power vacuum the death of the Guardians would leave. You had to be fast and efficient so no one would notice their absence. So no one would get any smart ideas. You were sending a message that there were plenty of other heroes to fear. At least for the next few days.
You wish time would stop moving forward, just for a little bit. You feel so tired. You don’t want to do this. You’re sick of seeing people hurt other people. Of having to hurt people. But what would you be if you looked away? What would your family think of you if you didn’t help when you had the ability to do so? Were you anyone without these powers at this point?
Your life consisted of nothing but the job, whether it was black market dealers or experiments gone wrong, you had to wear the suit.
(“—be strong.”)
You almost dread the moment your father will awaken. It won’t be long. They might not know much about your species’ durability, but you had a guess.
(“Hey,” Mark’s voice echoes from your phone. “I saw you on TV. Back in the limelight, a bunch of theorists think you’re trying out for the Globe.”
He pauses.
“If,” he starts, “If you need any help—“
“Focus on school,” you interject. “And I heard you fought off those Flaxans pretty well yesterday.”
You hear his breath stutter.
“I know mom left some stuff in the freezer, but do you want me to pick up anything?”
“Sushi,” Mark replies instantly.
“Yeah, I think there’s a place near me—“
“From that one place in Nagoya.”
“Bro.”
“Bro,” Mark pleads, “I know you carry that insulated bag with you. I’ll pay you back.”
“With your burger money?”
“Elitist, but yeah.”
“I’d feel like a bully, so just buy me, like, fifteen milkshakes.”
“I think that’s still just extortion.”)
You get a frantic call from your mom that he’s awake. When you burst into his room you narrowly avoiding your brother crashing into you.
“Careful,” you chide him but he ignores you to approach the now conscious man.
You watch them.
After changing out of your costume and into your civvies, you watch Mark brush off your father’s hand. You sigh. Your mother told you the older woman he had saved hadn’t made it. Your father didn’t seem too concerned, instead turning to the nurse at the front desk, demanding his costume back.
“Manners,” you scold, walking to stand next to him. He only glances at you as the nurse leaves to retrieve the damaged suit.
“You did good, covering for me,” he commends.
“Guess I’ll have to do it a little longer while you recover,” you note. “Don’t take too long, I have my own stuff to get back to.”
Your dad only scoffs before your mother intervenes.
“I’m just glad we’ll all be home again!”
You and your father share a glance. He knows you know.
“I gotta get going,” you step away, “I just wanted to make sure dad was okay. Cecil needs me to go do…something.”
(“Why didn’t you and dad ever tell me that there’s an orange, telepathic cyclops alien that shows up every once in a while?” Mark demands.
“Oh, I don’t know. Three years ago, while I was chilling on the moon, he showed up, I punched him, and then I got to dad to deal with it,” you explain, “Freaked me out.”
“And you didn’t try to talk to him?”
“I was in the middle of some really deep thinking when he showed up,” you defend yourself, “But, he had the wrong planet? That’s funny.”
He groans out your name in exasperation.)
“Singularity,” Cecil’s voice rings out in your ear, “You’re needed. Your brother and the Teen Team aren’t doing so hot—“
“Send me the coordinates.”
When you’re fifty kilometres away, your dad joins you.
“Shouldn’t you be resting?” You ask.
He ignores you, “These Flaxans are on their third attempt to invade?”
“That’s right.”
He grunts, “Let me show you how to nip this kind of thing in the bud.”
“What?”
“Follow my lead. We’ll talk after. I know I owe you that much.”
When you arrive, Mark is being beaten by a Flaxan in a mech suit. Speeding up, you punch the alien off your baby brother, before tossing him into the air with a yell. Omni-man catches him as you turn away.
“Are you okay?” You fret as you crouch down to lift him out of the crater he was slumped in. He groans in pain before perking up at seeing your dad.
In his usual effortless fashion, Omni-man has the army’s attention as he wipes the aliens out in an instant after proving that their attacks could do nothing to him.
Your brother watches in awe as he forces the intruders to retreat back into their portals.
“Singularity,” he calls out from above you, nudging his head toward the last of the Flaxans. The one in the mech suit, the one that wanted to beat your brother to death, still wasn’t keen on leaving, despite the portal behind him.
You close your eyes before turning to your brother, giving his shoulder a squeeze as he stares at you in confusion. “You did good.”
And in the next instant, in tandem, you and Omni-man fly at the enemy with a burst of speed, the three of you disappearing into the portal. The last thing you hear is Mark call out for your dad, and for you. Your name echoing from behind you. You couldn’t even blame him for the secret identity thing.
(Their planet was red. The rocks beneath your feet, the lighting, and even the fear in their eyes as they started at you like you were their reckoning.
“You don’t seem to understand,” Your dad speaks with a menace in his tone unlike anything you’ve ever heard, “Earth isn’t yours to conquer.”
“Dad?”
He looks back at you, and he’s almost remorseful, “Just watch, and I promise I’ll explain everything.
You couldn’t even move if you wanted to. You watched a civilization fall to ruin, buildings collapsing, innocents screaming. It wouldn’t stop. Your dad, who used to throw you in the air until you were screaming with joy, always catching you with strong hands, was now the cause of pure terror.
With a surge of courage, you tackle him, both of you plummeting down to the ground.
“What are you doing?” You cry, gripping his face, “Just stop!”
He says your name, hands grabbing your wrists, “This is what needs to be done.”
“You’re insane,” you state, “you’re actually insane—“
In a quick turn, he throws you down by the wrists before you can react, with a strength you’ve never experienced before.
When you sit up, the screams are louder. Your crash created a crater, but your eyes widen at the sudden warmth you feel, covering your legs, back, and hands.
It’s red. Not again. It’s red.
It’s in your mouth, in your nose, and the only thing you can see is red.
You think you’re screaming, crying. You’re fourteen again, the same idiot that fell and caused devastation. You can’t breathe, you’re choking on your own sobs. You don’t know how much time has passed, only blinking into awareness when you feel your father pulling you into his arms, shushing you as he presses your face into his shoulder.
You cry out in defiance, pushing your hands against him, but his grip only tightens against you.
“It’s okay, it’s over,” he whispers.
“You killed them,” you hiccuped, “The Guardians—“
“I had to—“
“You didn’t! You didn’t have to—“
“I know this is hard, that you never wanted to be a hero,” he interrupts, “And a part of me was always glad about that. That you recognized the futility of it all. But, that only makes it worse on you. You more than anyone knows how crooked and violent that world is, that no matter how many so called heroes appear, it will never end. Not unless people like us step in. Force them to stop, even if it means having to be cruel, to be the monsters in their eyes. For the greater good.”
“Dad—“
“From the moment I stepped foot onto that planet, its fate was already decided. That Earth would become a part of our empire. No more disease or famine. No more lives being sold or slaughtered. But, I faltered. If you and Mark were just human——I couldn’t let them find out about you. But you’re not human. And you don’t need to have these human problems anymore,” he continues, stroking your hair with his bloodied hand. “But I need you to be strong. For your brother and mom. For yourself. For your survival and theirs. We can’t defy the empire. The weak aren’t allowed to live among us, so you need to stop crying.”
“No, no, I can’t,” you try to object.
“You can and you will. For a better world, one where your mom can grow old in, where you and your brother will have each other as everyone around you ages and dies. This is the only way, your empathy will only doom you. Us. So let me—-let me make the hard choices until you can.” He finishes as you cease struggling, only lying limply against him.
As your vision blackens, you hope you don’t wake up.
(Time passes on a different rate on this planet. Your father forces its inhabitants to send you back home, something they are more than willing to do. The days blur together, your father gently cajoling you into drinking and eating in your detached state, cradling you to his chest like you’re a kid. Maybe you still are one. Still unable to handle the pressure, stupid and weak as you are.
You leave behind death and destruction as you return back to your planet, guided by your father.)
You and your father leave those issues outside of the house, so when you return home, your gait is casual even if you look battered.
Entering first, your father walks in, only a bit tired, as if he hasn’t doomed a whole planet.
“I need a shower,” he sighs.
“I called dibs,” you shoot back, following behind him as if you hadn’t spent days crying and cursing him out.
Mark and your mom jump from their seats, pulling you two into an embrace.
“Woah, group hug?” You laugh as your dad holds all three of you in his arms.
You stop when you hear the announcer on the TV declare that the Guardians are dead.
A day later, you find yourself dressed in black, accompanying your family to the televised funeral of the Guardians; heroes, civilians, and the press all attending.
Your father, the murderer, begins his eulogy. You clench your coat in between your fists, scrunching your eyes closed. It’s almost laughable.
Your mom nudges you, “Are you alright? You look…anxious.”
You smile at her, “Just a bit crowded.”
Hours later, you attend the second, and real, funeral. Olga sobbing as the actual caskets lay in front of you. You hold an umbrella over your mother’s head as your father begins to speak. You wonder how sincere he’s being.
“Good to see you again, despite the circumstances. I didn’t realize you three were all related,” Eve greets you.
“Don’t want any nepotism accusations. You know how it is,” you joke with Mark scoffing at you, but you notice his lips twitch.
People soon begin to leave as the rain continues. You watch from a distance as the detective from hell stands off against your father. He’s onto him. You shudder.
(When you turn to leave, your parents stop you.
“Honey, are you sure you don’t want to come home with us?” Your mom looks at you in worry, you feel like that’s all you do to her now.
“Come on, you can choose what we have for dinner,” your dad bribes. You keep your face flat.
“Some publishers approached me about some of my action shots. For the Guardian’s memorial pages,” you explain, squeezing Mark’s arm before turning away.
You feel your father’s stare until you disappear from sight.)
“You sure you won’t consider a place on the team? I wouldn’t even ask you to tryout,” Cecil offers.
“You said you had a ring you wanted me to dismantle?” You deflect.
The man studies you, “Are you okay? Looking a little worse for wear there.”
“Not a fan of funerals.”
“Who is?” The man clears his throat, “You know, we offer a lot of services for heroes. In case, you needed someone to talk to. Our NDAs are ironclad.”
You jolt, “What? I’m fine. Just…tired.”
You don’t meet his dubious gaze.
(Your mom pulls you aside one day.
“You know you can talk to me,” your mom says, “I know you’d want Mark to talk about his problems. You can do the same. You don’t have to leave it out of the house, like your father says to.”
“I know, mom,” you reply.
She frowns at you, “Cecil told me…about what happened when you were younger. It wasn’t your fault.”
You hum, “It was a long time ago. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I asked dad to keep it secret. I didn’t want to…”
When you trail off, she wraps her arms around you, “You’ve helped so many people, but you don’t have to keep doing it. Not at the expense of yourself. It’s your life, you’re still young. Do what makes you happy. You can stop.”
Once, those words would have been your salvation. Now, it’s no longer an option.
“I know, mom,” you smile.
She pulls away to cup your face, “When was the last time you ate something?”
“I had a light breakfast,” you lie.
“Then you’ll have room for some soup. I made your favourite,” she declares confidently, but you see the defeat in her eyes.)
“You have a girlfriend?” You question.
“Why are you saying it like that?” Mark demands.
“Dude, you’re a superhero, high school student slash part timer! How are you going to have any time left?” You ask.
“I’ll make it work,” he insists.
“You’re delusional.”
“And you’re mean.”
(“…are you okay? You’re a bit quiet.” Mark later asks as you two play your usual racing game.
“Need to focus to beat you.”
“You’re in last place. Like always,” Mark teases, “And I meant it in, like, general.”
“Just adult stuff.”
“I’m literally eighteen now.”
“You’re a baby.”
“You can’t even legally drink alcohol yet!”
“In this country.”
“I’m telling mom!”
“I didn’t say I actually drank anything, you snitch!”)
You avoid going home for a while.
Your father hasn’t made any moves. He won’t make any. He’s hesitating. The childish part of you thinks it’s because he’s your father before a Viltrumite. Even if you don’t visit home, you visit him. You argue. You scream. He threatens and bargains. Sometimes he almost reveals something human. Other times, he berates you. Telling you that you’d be the cause of Earth’s destruction, unless you listen.
You can’t fight him.
No matter how many times you try to imagine it, you don’t see yourself beating your dad. You don’t think you could even try.
(Mark calls you one night. He wants to help take down a gang. You already know your father wasn’t happy about that.
“If you feel like your intel is legitimate then go for it. Dad’s never appreciated anything that doesn’t involve some epic battle.” You explain. “You need backup?”
“Nah, I’ll be fine. It’s just this teleporter dude I have to worry about.”
“Remain vigilant, you never what kind of BS desperate idiots will pull.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m more worried about Amber—“
You groan, “You high schoolers are actually so annoying.”)
The next time you see your family, Mark is half dead and being operated on. You can only watch as your parents argue behind you. Your mom pulls you away from the operating room window.
You and your mom stay overnight while your father visits after his patrols. He doesn’t wake up until nearly a week later.
You almost laugh when the first thing on his mind is how he blew off his girlfriend.
(As you’re leaving, Cecil pulls you aside.
“Hey, is everything alright with you and your dad?” He asks. He almost sounds like a CPS worker.
“Yeah, why do you ask?”
“You seem to be avoiding him like the plague, is all. I thought you two were close.” He comments.
Your mouths opens but no sound escapes it. You almost tell him. But you hear your dad’s footsteps approaching.
“Didn’t take you for a gossip,” you chuckle, “I really have to get going though.”)
You’re in Iceland, taking photos of puffins, living in existential dread. This is your life now.
You nearly cry when your phone’s ring rouses you from your sleep. You look around in confusion before realizing you’re in your hotel room. The ringing ends, only to begin again, vibrating noisily against your nightstand.
It’s your mom. You pick up the phone.
“Honey, listen to me carefully—!”
The call cuts off.
“Seriously?” You huff, realizing your phone just died before getting up to search for your charger, rooting around your bag.
After ten minutes of less than fruitful looking, you exit your hotel room to go ask the front desk if they have one instead.
When you walk out of the elevator, you notice a crowd of employees huddled around the lobby television.
When you take a closer look, you notice a familiar kaiju beating up Omni-man and Invincible. Your dad and brother. And Immortal is back from the dead. And now trying to kill your dad.
Phone forgotten, you fly back to your room ignoring the people blown back, looking around confused.
With your costume now on you take off faster than you ever have before. Iceland to somewhere outside of Chicago. Yeah, definitely easy.
By the time you arrive, you see that the kaiju is tied up and that the Immortal is in two pieces on the ground. But your father and brother are missing.
You close your eyes and listen. Before turning to look at where Chicago is; people screaming, buildings collapsing.
“Oh, fuck.”
You find them in a destroyed subway tunnel. Mark covered in red. Your dad’s hand tainted with the same colour. You can smell it. The remains of hundreds of people scattered among the rubble.
Mark whispers your name. He’s scared and he’s hurt, and it’s all Omni-man’s fault.
“Mark,” you begin gently, “Get out of here. Go find mom.”
He starts to protest, but your dad interrupts him, calling your name sternly, eyes red and bloodshot. “Neither of you are anywhere. Not until you both understand.”
“You’ve lost it,” you laugh before charging at him in an instant, arms hooking around him as you break through the damaged ceiling, throwing him into the orange sky above, away from the crying city. Before he can regain his balance, you strike him again, to create more distance.
“You’re still not listening,” He admonishes before closing the gap, gripping you by the shoulders. “My time here has been a speck in the span of my life. You don’t know me, neither of you do. I will burn this planet before I spend another minute living among these animals.”
“Animals?” You’re almost hysterical at this point, “Are you saying that you’d start a family with an animal, you sick fucking bastard—“
He goes to strike you, but you place a hand between his shoulder and neck, and you squeeze—
He shouts in pain but you ignore it, you have to ignore it, as you bring your other hand to punch him down.
You’re not stronger than him. But you are faster. And he’s weak. Tired.
You tackle him in the air, head against his hip as you crush back into the ground a couple hundred miles away from where you left Mark.
He growls your name throwing a punch that you duck under, kicking him in the ribs with punishing force.
He stares at you shocked. For the first time, you’re brutal with your blows, unrelenting. He can take it.
With a cry, you charge again.
Kicking, punching, and even biting, you exchange blows with your father as if you two were nothing more than beasts that are beyond reason.
With a quick kick to his knee, you force him to stagger, seizing the opportunity to wrap your hands around his neck and push him down, following him as you crouch above, and squeeze, trying to crush his windpipes so he can never let out a breath again, never hurt anyone again.
One of his hands grips your forearm, breaking it, but you don’t relent. His other hand, slams against your ribs repeatedly until your choking back blood, but you can’t relent.
As you watch his eyes grow redder and dazed, you realize he’s crying.
No, he’s not crying. Your own tears are falling onto his face.
Mark shouts your name, and you stop immediately, pulling your hands back, frightened.
Your dad struggles to breath again, staring up at you.
“You were almost there,” he exhales, and maybe you imagine it, but you see guilt flash across his expression, before he jabs four of his fingers through your stomach, before pulling out, blood coating his knuckles as you gasp. You feel frozen before you begin to tip, falling onto the ground as your father gets up. He turns you to your side as blood gushes out of your mouth. The gentleness contrasting his cruelty.
(When you were younger, every Christmas, Mark would wake up at the asscrack of dawn to run downstairs. Your mom would have to stop him, telling him he would have to wait for you to wake up before you could all open your presents as a family.
So, every Christmas, he would burst into your room, jumping onto your bed, shaking you as he called your name over and over—)
He’s calling your name over and over, begging you to get up. Mark, your baby brother, hovers above you. He’s crying. You try to ask why didn’t he leave. To warn him that Omni-man is behind him. You’re forced to watch as the man you called dad wrenches Mark away from you despite his struggles, taking off into the sky again.
You slowly but surely begin to shift your legs, moving your unbroken arm against the ground to push yourself up. You ignore your trembling limbs and the way your body cries in protest.
You nearly fall back down, when a sphere like drone begins to speak. Cecil.
“Stay down, we’ll send help—“
“Where,” you breathe out, ignoring the blood seeping out as you talk, “are they?”
Cecil tries to stop you in vain but you push yourself up into a kneeling position, watching blood pour out of your stomach.
“Coordinates.”
Nepal. Mount Everest.
Should you laugh or cry?
You find them in a crater. Because that’s what you Viltrumites do, get beaten until the ground cracks beneath you. Mark is worse off than you, you think. Face bloodied and brutalized. Omni-Man standing above him, a weird tension in his body. He’s distraught. He turns to meet your gaze.
He leaves. Straight into the sky, away from you.
Mark murmurs your name. You stagger over to him before dropping to your knees.
“It’s over, it’s okay, you’re okay,” you nearly snivelled, gripping his hand. He’s battered and beaten, but he’s alive. Your brother is alive. “…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Mark.”
You stay there for hours, as Mark loses consciousness. Only perking up when you hear the noise of Cecil’s helicopter. Your mom jumps out alongside paramedics. Her hands hover above you brokenly, as she takes in your injured body, tears in her eyes.
You watch as Mark is carried away.
“‘M sorry, mom,” you apologize, feeling your sight blur before collapsing, as your mom holds onto you, calling for help.
You hope you don’t wake up.
You wake up before Mark. Your mom at your side. You feel like a walking bruise. Your arm in a cast, and your stomach flickering between numbness and agony.
She’s stroking your head. You can tell she’s still holding back tears.
“You did so good,” she sniffed. You fall asleep to her assurances.
Despite seeming to be in worse state than you, Mark is out of bed before you. Your stomach wound is particularly annoying, it seems. You did not enjoy having to use a feeding tube.
He stares down at you, with teary eyes. “I’m—“
“Thanks for stopping me, Mark, I don’t think I would have survived, otherwise.”
His face cracks.
“He told me before you.” You admit. “It’s my fault, not yours. I didn’t want you or mom to know. I thought I could stop him, change his mind. I guess I didn’t really know him. Don’t blame yourself.”
“You shouldn’t either,” Mark responds, gripping your hand, “It wasn’t right, how he was treating you, what he told you——you were just a kid. Even now, it’s still not okay, you’re his daughter. He shouldn’t have treated you like that.”
When you look at him in confusion, he elaborates, “He mentioned some of the stuff he told you. It wasn’t fair of him to make you hide that stuff. You were only thirteen, and even now…”
You close your eyes when you feel them water. You didn’t want him or mom to feel guilty. Not because of you. Because you were too weak to even have made a difference.
“It’s going to be okay, he’s,” your brother chokes, “gone now.”
When your brother is cleared to go home, you insist they return without you. That they’ve spent enough time in a hospital. Your mom acquiesces. You feel worse because she probably thinks you’re trying to avoid her. For not knowing. But that was your choice, your fault, not hers.
Nolan Grayson is dead. Omni-man is a traitor to humanity. You know things are only going to get worse from here.
You startle when you hear a knock on your temporary room’s door.
“We need to talk.” Cecil states, making himself comfortable in the chair adjacent to your bed.
You sigh wearily.
“Let’s talk.”
Omni-man: Sweetie, you’re not like other girls, and I mean that in a non-misogynistic way.
Singularity:
*
Omni-man, watching as Singularity has a panic attack on the bloodied remains of Flaxans: I really need you to not snitch on me. We’ll literally all die. It’s your fault, by the way.
*
Omni-man: I made her strong!
Cecil: You gave her PTSD and depression??
*
Singularity, staring into the mirror: you stupid piece of shit, go kill yourself
Debbie:
*
Rex: Yeah, and Invincible has a hot sister—
Mark: Yeah—wait, what!?
Rex: you have a hot sister?
Mark: We are so not cool anymore!
*
Omni-man after gravely injuring Singularity: Oh my Shaylaaaaa
Omni-man after beating the shit out of Mark: Why did you make me do this!?
*
Rex: So, I’m single, you’re single, so why don’t we—
Mark: No, not doing this, nope.
Singularity: how to kms
*
Singularity after being dropped in DC: No, you can’t adopt me! Wtf is wrong with you, besides your dumbass name
Batman: I will get you therapy
I somehow finished this before season 3, omg. Yeah Nolan isn’t a good person and definitely put too much pressure on an actual child. I think I did decent with hinting that even before season one, he had issues, especially having to train his daughter. And most people wouldn’t notice because he screams girl dad but he’s actually bad!!
Also please, please tell me if there are any grammar errors in this behemoth. The notes app doesn’t have spellcheck! Or word count…
When singularity was younger, a boy snapped her bra in class, and the former could only angry cry lest she kill him accidentally. Debbie ended up storming into the school, and a two hour lecture had administration, the boy, and his parents apologizing you. Nolan was contemplating murder and started hinting at singularity to consider not hold back for the next month after that.
Singularity started out wearing white like her father, but then switched to a black suit with a mask that covered her full face, much to her father’s disappointment. The new suit hides bloodstains better and prevents any bits from getting in her face.
Almost gave singularity a rescue dog, a real big beast, and Nolan would subtlety compare humanity to dogs while singularity would just side eye him.
(“A nice hound, a shame they don’t live too long. They’re like humans in that way, I suppose.”
“Dad.”)
And I’m so excited that Invincible Thursdays are back and better than ever!! The first three episodes were just so good!
It's never going to stop being wild to me that the Wicked Witch of the West was never seen as green-skinned until the original movie came out, and the look was just so iconic it stuck, and also the movie's still under copyright (including the exact shade of green used for her) which is why more recent movies and productions have to be super finicky with the shade of green they make her due to copyright.
All of which is to say, if I ever do my own take on the Wizard of Oz (og!book version), I'm making her blue. Or maybe purple. I'd go with orange, for contrary funsies, but there's WAY too much history with various groups as being described as red or yellow, and I'm not going to risk going too far in either direction and adding unpleasant unintentional undertones in a choice that's about as deep as a puddle. There will also be no point in my take on events where anyone (even the narrator) makes a comment or joke about her not being green.
Might make a joke about how Dorothy's dress matches her skin and neither of them knowing what to do with this discovery, though.
Also I wouldn't go the full 'the Wicked Witch owns slaves' route from the original book and make her more similar to Madam Mim from The Sword in the Stone in her flavour of wicked/evil, and I would go with the 'Dorothy and the Wonderful Wizard in Oz' backstory regarding the Wizard and Ozma (basically retcons him having usurped the throne), so he's still something of a conman and trickster figure, but still definitively an ally to Dorothy & Co. Not only does this satisfy my own personal sensibilities for these characters, it sets up the delightful scenario of dangerously powerful evil witch versus some guy from Omaha with a quick tongue and a knack for stage magic and making gizmos desperately trying to keep a couple steps ahead of her.
She'd still get melted in the final confrontation of the original story, but she'd also get better later, Enchanted Forest Chronicles style. Dorothy is the only one surprised or concerned by this, but is also relieved that she did not, in fact, accidentally murder a second person. The Witch of the West shows up off and on throughout the continuing stories afterwards as a sort of side menace, maybe she has a domestication arc or something, I dunno, this post was just about making her blue instead of green because of who I am as a person, we're two paragraphs deeper than I planned, I'm calling it here before it can get any longer on me. O_OU
wait a minute, what if the reason Shadow always targets tails is because, if you discount all the wacky powers the group has, Tails is technically the apex predator? Since shadow is a genetic creation, maybe his more primitive instincts are more prevelant, so he can't help but see Tails as a bigger threat than he actually is?
Something I’ve always found rather curious about the Adventure Time fandom, specifically Bubbline shippers, is that nobody seems to talk about how the show slipped in what might be the most angsty, hardcore and emotionally raw Bubbline stories disguised as a wacky Rashomon-style recap in the episode Ketchup.
Like it’s pretty clear that Marceline is doing the whole ‘Lollipop Girl and Rockstar Girl’ puppet-show because she doesn’t want to traumatize BMO with what happened while they, Finn and Jake were gone, and also because she herself doesn’t want to revisit those memories directly.
But when we start reading between the lines and recognize that Marceline’s embellishments are really more to tone DOWN events, I think we get a very stark and raw depiction of what Marceline was doing when Patience set off Ooo’s elemental apocalypse.
Just to kick things off, how much does anyone want to bet that this joke translates to ‘Marceline and Bubblegum had a fight and Marcy was giving Bonnie some space… and because of that, Marceline wasn’t there to protect Bonnie when she was kidnapped by Patience.’?
Kinda adds another layer to Marcy’s whole ‘I was so afraid something bad would happen to you’ breakdown in Come Along With Me, doesn’t it?
Next we have ‘Rockstar Girl smacking off the potato-heads growing on her’ which pretty easily translates to; ‘while everyone else was getting overrun by the elements, Marceline was able to fight off the elemental contamination for possibly entire days while she tried to find a way to help Bubblegum’. And given what we see with Finn and Jake only able to resist the contamination for maybe a few hours at a time, and how willpower was one of the only things that could hold it off, that says a LOT about just how DESPERATE Marcy was to help Bonnie. I mean, you want a really hardcore and messed up image? Imagine if Marceline was actively cutting or RIPPING off the contaminated parts of herself to keep it from spreading and regrowing those parts with her vampiric regeneration?
Then we have ‘Rockstar Girl went after the Blue Tranch’, which I can only imagine translates to ‘Marceline going on a GOLB-DAMMNED WARPATH to hunt down Patience St. Pim’. And let’s remember that A. Patience was currently a super-charged Elemental and B. Marceline would still be fighting off elemental contamination herself, whether the Candification from Bubblegum, the Ice-ification from Patience, or even both.
I mean, when we think about it; ‘Rockstar Girl played some really loud music that the Blue Tranch didn’t like’ quite possibly translates to the most insane battle of the entire show. Like on one side we’ve got Patience St. Pim, seasoned Elemental who could already make Ice King look like an amateur, super-charged with elemental energy making her probably the most powerful Ice Elemental in thousands if not millions of years. And on the other side, we’ve got Marceline, consumed and possibly more than half-crazed with rage, fear and desperation to help Bonnie, going ALL-OUT with her numerous vampire powers, possibly some of her demonic powers, all while fighting off the encroaching elemental contamination.
And if ‘The Blue Tranch begged Rockstar Girl to stop and go away’ is anything to go by, I think we can assume that Marcy utterly WRECKED Patience’s SHIT. As in, Patience may well have ended this fight with an axe in her gut, a claw choking the life out her and Marceline threatening to devour her very SOUL if she didn’t tell her how to help Bonnie.
(Here’s another fun thought: Something that notably separates Patience from the other current elementals of Ooo is that whereas Princess Bubblegum, Flame Princess and Slime Princess are all physical manifestations OF their elements (Gum, Fire and Slime, respectively), while Patience is human. Yet when we see her during the arc, she seems to have lost her human body and assumed fully elemental form as well. Now we could of course assume that this is simply due to the elemental overcharge just like the others. Buuuuttt… what if Patience was FORCED to assume this new form because her human body could no longer SURVIVE after the utter THRASHING she received from Marceline?)
Finally, we of course have the end. Something which seems all too easy to imagine even with Marceline’s toning down of events:
Marcy rushing back to the Candy Kingdom as fast as she can. Even though she’s exhausted from her fight with Patience and the days spent fighting off the elemental contamination. To the point where now she can only barely hold it off and maintain her sanity. Perhaps she wonders if this is what it was like for Simon during their time together…
Even though she knows speeding back this fast is only draining her strength faster, but that doesn’t matter to her. Because what matters right now is the trinket, potion, or something or other clutched in her hand that Patience gave her. Something that Marcy can’t be sure will even work. But she hopes it will. That’s the only thing keeping her going, the only thing holding her together at this point.
A blind, desperate HOPE that this will save Bonnie…
When she finally returns to what was once the Candy Kingdom, Marceline finds the massive tower of gum. Perhaps like Finn and Jake later on, Marceline at first isn’t sure what she’s looking at and thinks Bonnie is at the top. So she flies right to the top in a burst of speed that drains her already dwindling strength even further.
And there Marcy finds Bonnie. Or rather, what Bonnie has BECOME. Perhaps she doesn’t even remember Marcy.
Perhaps for Marcy, this is like losing Simon all over again. Except instead of the father who raised and cared for her over ten years, it’s a woman that Marcy has loved for the better part of a millennium. A woman she was only just able to start loving again after so long. But now, just like Simon… she’s gone.
And this realization does what all the elemental power of Ooo could not.
It breaks Marceline.
Just like that, Marceline doesn’t even try to use the ‘antidote’ Patience gave her. Instead, perhaps Marcy gives Bonnie one last kiss and just… accepts the madness.
Sorry for the death fakeout! I usually hate them but this was too much fun to pass up! Burnet gets to live, and I'm sure there will be no cost to this >:3
I gave this a lot of thought but decided Lilac gets to cry on screen bc-
*checks notes*
-full realism is boring, characters who don't emote are not fun to read in a visual format cx
Oh yeah i binged House MD while doing this page and finally finished all of it and now i need to find another silly medical drama to watch XD
Slowly rotating xenomorph batfam, either full blown xenomorph or similar to several experiments are some sort of xeno hybrids- probably with human but there's also been other types too.
I lovvvve the xenomorph design so much, it's surprisingly intricate and it just looks so fun to move around as.
Not a very imposing pic lol, but I can and will info dump. These creatures are very suited for gotham.
Their legs alone, fully extended, are the length of a adult humans height! Their tail is twice the length of their body exactly, and fully prehensile! It's used for pulling off impressive feats of balance, giving them insane maneuverability and and agility at high speeds in just about any environment! In water variants the tail is also webbed and rudder like, which makes them very fast and agile underwater!
They've got six fingers on each hand, two thumbs, and either their fingers have ball joints at the base or they're very flexible, because they often use them to climb small slippery surfaces like pipes, with enough strength to support their full weight plus victims! The extra thumb is used for a superior grip too - and they have small beans!
The toes are long, flat and slightly webbed, allowing it increased mobility on loose surfaces like sand or snow and in water. The lack of a proper heel makes up for the increased floor contact that would otherwise lead to reduced speed in a straight line.
The high shoulder guards protect the neck from side angles, while the spikes/vents and mouth protect the front and back. The spikes are angled to prevent catching on the long head, which presumably houses the brain, telepathic (?) organs that allow for long and close range communication with pack members and the hive queen, and the muscles for the infamous phalange jaw.
The lack of lips is interesting in that it doesn't stop drool which is a pretty resource intensive thing to just let dribble everywhere and I'm pretty sure the joint spikes are just to look cool but all in all the xenomorph is a very elegant design!
It's an extremophile of the highest order, capable of surviving even the vacuum of space, and all stages are able to enter hibernation almost indefinitely and rapidly emerge even after millenia, and of living that long naturally. They're pretty much immortal. Its blood is green and extremely corrosive to the point of melting through thick steel, has no need to eat, sleep or breathe, is seemingly telepathic within the species, and their hyper adaptability leads to immense dimorphism even within generations! By selecting for the victims, xeno types can come in any species under any sun, but noticeable ones include blood hounds, sea serpents, bat winged, the standard humanoid with increased intelligence capable of tactics and strategy, panthers, spiders, acid spitters, triceratops and more! Not even getting into the caste system!!
Xeno hybrids are usually pretty unhealthy, but work arounds could be found in the dc universe. Perhaps shape shifting or heavy duty illusions if you don't want to split the bodies entirely. The dark, dingy, often cramped city of Gotham is an ideal place for a xenomorph nest - there's canonically several old alien bunkers and nests and what have you left over from previous invasions.
There were several cut bits in movies (and not cut bits in some comics I believe) of people stuck in the hive, quite literally turning into hive material even. And well, Bruce fell down in the caves at one point.
Who knows if maybe there's bits still in his blood, and then well, exposure to the Lazarus pits (either the one under Gotham or the LOA's or even both) could honestly cause a reaction.
Or maybe he was always a hybrid, maybe his parents couldn't have kids for some reason and either made a test tube baby with a bit of extra stuff or they found him in a pod in their yard a la Kent style.
Oh it's a good question on if the xenos are an established species. It'd be fun if they were, even if it's like, thought to be extinct or only on one or two planets heavily regulated.
All the GL and aliens are definitely freaking out while Supes is just ??? He's my friend, a grumpy dude sure, but he's chill. Promised to murder me if I go evil which is great!
OH perhaps they have bands or something that forms an illusion for fully human form or something. Maybe they eventually develop the ability to fully change into a xeno, who knows lol.
Gosh I love the idea of Alfred being just a normal highly competent dude scolding these very deadly creaturs about manners and them listening.
Sure his son and grandchildren aren't human but that's not going to stop him.
Absolutely adore the idea of Bruce going from drone to warrior to praetorian to queen/king over time. Also love the idea of them all fucking with the goons and being terrifying.
Ooh yes! Lmao, what if he had the bat wings (of course) but also these little spikes on his head like his cowl. And they could be, like, receptors or transmitters or something, to allow for the telepathy thing to work even without a central queen. Maybe they appear when he takes in the first kid, and is the first sign of his eventual evolution?
Aww instinctive baby spider kids. Are we assuming they skip the face hugger stage and go from human to weird xeno?
Because what if there was, like the smallville thing, a meteor shower or something that contained xeno dna that affected the future bats? And maybe Damian was travelling as a baby secretly to see Gotham and talia thinks he fell ill from a bug and not getting his dna rewritten lol.
Alien opinions on the xenomorph are all very solidly 'kill it with fire', 'this planet is doomed I'm leaving' and 'I'm telling the space police to quarantine this whole sector indefinitely we must act soon before humanity is ravaged by inevitable apocalypse'. They're all one hundred and ten percent serious. Clark just gestures to b like 'look at him. He's doing paperwork.'
Martian manhunter, poor guy, has to work with him during the first alien invasion and is petrified the entire time. He hates that he's stuck on earth. He is beyond scared. Every alien and lantern but Clark is. Green lantern is half convinced he's forgetting some other innocent xenomorph looking because he cannot be seeing what he's seeing.
Honestly having a xeno (a whole nest of xeno) on the team would change a lot, intergalactically. I can't tell if there'd be more alien invasions or less XD.
Oh, oh! What if he gets them as the first sign of him evolving again. Like how the praetorians and queens have the head crests but of course in human-ish form that doesn't manifest fully, so it took until he took in his first child.
Like his body was like oh, child?? Lil baby xeno??? We release the chemicals for the start of molting into a queen now.
Clark is so confused about others' reaction to B and is actually more than a little offended on his and his kids behalf! So they were born as a very deadly species, so what? It's not like they chose that, and they're some of the kindest people he knows even if their communication skills with people outside their hive leaves something to be desired.
Clark is like: Um this is literally my best friend in this world and I would die for him-
Bruce: I can hurt every single one of you if you hurt him. You will not die but you will suffer the entire time
Clark: Bruce we talked about this no-
Oh my gosh what if the kids start out more similar to chestbursters, like the chitin is more flesh colored and no vents or anything, just reeally long tail and things like sharp teeth and claws?
Like they have a natural 'in-between' stage of human and xenomorph, once the change is finished. But it takes practice and such to shift into a human disguise (uncomfortable, instincts blaring about how vulnerable they are) and into a fully xeno form?
Damian, oh I am slowly rotating this boi. And like, in most things he's a test tube baby. Love the idea of the xeno-bits coming from a meteorite shower and can totally see the league taking some interest and samples.
I think it's actually canon that the xenos are influenced by the hosts they developed in yeah. But another alien race already wiped out the martians. BUT. We have seen in comics xenomorphs being used as rabid attack dogs...
J'onn has a bit of trauma even if it'd be partially soothed if Bruce just let him peek in his mind. Bruce has never killed ever (save for once because I can't see any sort of Xenomorph queen, hybrid or not, letting someone who nearly killed or did kill their children living so Joker probably gets murdered)
Clark the humanoid alien who grows up with loving parents in privacy and safety and the guiding hand of his predecessor vs Bruce the monstrous alien who's traumatised by the loss of his parents, constantly under public and media scrutiny, under a kill/flee on sight rule and wanted extinct across the universe by even the kindest race, absolutely no guiding hand or prior knowledge of his own biology.
And they're best friends and feel the other is the only one they can trust with the true extent of their alienness.
🥺
Oh joker absolutely gets murked.
Batman: I refuse to kill. I have seen the damage it does to the survivors. Everyone has someone who loves them. I will not be like my genocidal ancestors - I will never take a life. If I do the whole world will descend on my family and kill us all.
Joker: *kills jason*
Bruce, rooting through a cupboard for Alfred's secret gun compartment: well, the exception proves the rule. Nothing unusal about a human killing another human in Gotham. What are they going to do about Bruce Wayne shooting the Joker - procesute me?
What if b is the only full blood xeno from birth and the kids mothers just get contaminated (or attacked by genetically dodgy face huggers) and the dna fuses with them in the womb? And they get progressively more xeno on their tenth birthday (which is around the time they get taken in)? So for ages b thinks he's some sort of radioactive xeno dna infection until Alfred smacks him up the head and reminds him he's been exposed to Bruce all his life and he's perfectly fine. Not to mention the other kids he went to school all day with.
Xenos being used as attack dogs in the Martian apocalypse 👀 poor jonn! Fortunately or unfortunately, his races shape-shifting ability got just a tiny bit copied by the xeno to allow a descendant to hide amongst humans. (?)
Oh my gosh what if the folder is what first gets him into investigating and figuring stuff out. Like that's what starts him solving crimes and such because like, even if people don't like xenomorphs, they still let all this happen?? Like innocents died from those hunts and experiments and that really distresses him.
What if, like when the Waynes first found him he looked almost entirely xenomorph but instincts plus the shapeshifting kicked in so over several weeks shifted to a more human looking form?
Like his instincts are screaming to hide, which in most xenomorph's case would be literal but for something that can shapeshift is more time to try and mimic surrounding creatures.
I want to say Bruce is like, 95 to 98% xenomorph with a bit of other things taking up the rest of his DNA sequence including human and whatever his queen-mother happened to have.
And/or he may have bitten his human parents for blood to copy in his human form.
I love the accidental mirroring of Bruce & Clark. The temptation to draw something for this is unreal lol
Love the idea of Bruce just being like, "Alfred where's the guns I need them, no one is going to care if the Joker dies tonight-"
Probably has Clark help watch the kids so he can't stop him (Like Clark did in canon)
Honestly yeah, no one would care if Wayne did, like the police probably straight up went, yep, the Joker slipped on a banana, that's how he died, definitely. If people send him flowers and gift baskets that's no one elses problems.
Gosh I love the idea of J'onn being so wary about Bruce and traumatized, but just, slowly learning to trust him and eventually managing to befriend each other.
Oh my god one of the few things that can cause a xenomorph to back off is fire but martians can't use fire because they're terrified and weak to it as well. That was probably a massacre on both sides.
O h, no one besides Diana and Clark are probably aware of Bruce's kids for the longest time because the others are so untrusting of him. Several already say some rather... rude things about him and he doesn't want to expose his kids to that.
Which probably isn't helping the suspicion from the others when he keeps leaving early to take care of said kids...
My brain has latched onto this, specifically an idea that spawned of POV outsider of really enthusiastic academic specialising in xenomorphs. You can't tell me that an anomalous xenomorph colony living on some backwater planet with a vigilante problem, actually integrating socially into the local settlement, wouldn't make this person's life. Plus they're intelligent and communicative and if they get funding to travel to Earth they could potentially talk with them. What do you mean the hosts became the xenomorphs? Fascinating.
Oa is like, y'know what? Sure. They need to know if the Batfam is a threat or not because it's not the JLA will let them exterminate them.
The researcher is appalled they would even think of exterminating them. Because even if they consent to only the most basic non-invasive questions or exams, the information would likely be invaluable. And the potential that the species trajectory of this galactic predator could be adjusted to the point they actually have a sustainable place in certain ecosystems? That would make rehabilitation of certain planets an actual possibility.
The Bats then get an actual expert in their species to interrogate who is super enthusiastic to meet them. They're super suspicious. The academic is having a great time.
Would the fam get called to consult on xenomorph infestations?
The poor Green Lanterns from other sectors are getting whiplash. John Stewart, what do you mean your Earth colleague is a xenomorph?!
Omg yes I love the idea of it being completely instinctive to find a way to Bruce once he becomes a queen because a hive = safety.
Pfft, John is just... so tired. Pouring himself an unholy concoction of coffee because he's so tired. Starts naming off all that they have on Earth, also including the last two survivors of Mars and Krypton, there's a half demon child, a demigod or three... Honestly at this point the xenomorph is the least surprising with how much BS he's having to deal with on his planet.
Like there is a reason they apparently need several lanterns for earth alone. It's just a hotspot for BS apparently lol
Also absolutely love the idea of this alien whose entire life's work is studying the xenomorphs, their origin, their evolution, everything. And like, it's heavily implied that the xenos were genetically altered a long time ago by the Engineers/Space Jockeys into biological weapons, not to mention the black goo and Aaaa
They're definitely nerding out lol
Oh my gosh I LOVE this. Unexpected alien in their corner!
Like the jl getting a very polite but excited request to visit from an alien biologist passed through GL, and when he pauses to say 'guess which alien species theyre here for' everyone guesses wrong.
Batman immediately swears those in the know to silence about his kids and then starts stressing about where on earth they can possibly lodge an alien xeno biologist intent on looking into the city heroes. In the manor?? They'd have to all be 100% human at all times because this person DOES know what to look for and WILL investigate and it'll all go downhill.
Wait what if they assume batman's a girl because that's the default xeno gender and he's the (eventual) queen besides and he immediately corrects them. The biologist freaking out because this is a big deal!!! THE xenomorphs have gender identity!!! THE xenomorphs use PRONOUNS. Does the xenomorph consider himself part of the lgbt community on earth?
And batman deadpans 'I have a trans flag I put on my shawl in June' and the biologist is just melting with glee. They are having the best time of their lives. This is so much better than they'd even hoped. (this also opens the idea of aliens, particularly in this au, not being perfectly aligned with human gender and the expression of that but that's a different post lol.)
What if the biologist tried to tail him on patrol like Tim did except they're not prepared for gotham so he's just constantly pulling them out of situations.
Speaking of Tim what if he was tailing B not just for the pictures but because he felt that same urge to find the queen = find safety. And just never quite got the courage until after Jason's accident/death.
Poor gl though, he has to do a five yearly report on all the rare/dangerous aliens and races in his sector and first he has to go through all the alien invasions and when/how they were repelled, but he has to list the dozen super controversial people living on earth alone. There's not just the last survivor of venus (a cap marvel baddie, the venusian mind worm Mr mind), there's an escaped Tamaranean princess, a couple thanagarian soldier deserters, the champion of magic has reappeared (still an earthling!), a large helping of intra/extra dimensional beings, the kryptonian's been cloned, a Braniac clone or two, yes that guy, Reach exoskeletons bonding to humans, parts of starro that have separated and now live in a jar, and don't even get him started on all the magic races coming and going. And he suspects the xenomorph may have had kids, from the news reports coming out of Gotham. Don't worry, he's still doing paperwork and not killing anyone.
All the other lanterns like to print out his reports to be horrified at in the break room XD.
Hm, I feel like they at least know about the black goo- or at least partially. But like, any cave carvings or whatever around showed xenos and their ancestors yes, but it never exactly showed what was done to them.
So there's probably theories about the goo mutating the species at some point, but it definitely wasn't known that there was repetitive exposure on purpose through several close generations or the genetic splicing.
Which probably took place in the ovamorph/egg because that's when we know that things can be manipulated. Like canonically that's when things (outside of cloning) were changed.
“What’s that one for?” Nex’meir spoke excitedly through the translator, or at least the voice on the machine deemed it as such. Xey were pointing towards another spot on the x-ray pictures, which had felt as strange as they always did.
Bruce squinted towards the picture, only slightly annoyed that his vision in this form wasn’t the best. “Echolocation organ,” he eventually answered, going through his brain for everything he knew about his body.
There was delighted scribbling as they wrote on their tablet of sorts, and then they repeated. “What’s this?”
“The equivalent of lungs.”
“Why is this different in these two pictures?”
“I believe that was when I was talking to you and had to shift to proper vocal cords that are able to do so.”
“Fascinating.”
Honestly it was going pretty well in his opinion, the guard who had yet to give their name being pretty chill. Even if it still stung that others didn’t trust him just because of what he was. So what if he was large and could be deadly? He was always so careful not to harm anyone too much.
“What about this organ?”
He wracked his brain for it, flickering through his own memories and more muddled ones half remembered from dreams that had never happened to him. It took a moment, but he finally found its origin, the past vision blurry even as it could do no more than watch.
“Oh that was one of the genetically spliced ones, martian I think?”
Silence, not even the sound of them writing on their pad.
“I’m sorry, the what-”
You know what all good predators have? Beans. The xenosfam deserve to have those too.
Also yes, the biologist is so ecstatic for everything and keeps trying to tail Bruce to see him in his 'natural habitat' of sorts lol. Keeps peeking out to watch him (and his family once that's discovered)
Which oh the sheer escitement about that lol. Thirteen little children without a single death being needed to create them! That's practically revolutionary and so exciting!
The biologist is in the alien scientist equivalent of heaven with all of this.
Oh my goodness a drabble??! It's so good :D!! I love how you wrote his pov!! And the alien biologist had the perfect reaction XD. And you included the way his body had to reform to provide air to a voice box with a tongue!!! It's amazing! ❤️❤️❤️
Lmao what if the batman beyond lot were the first and only eggs he made once he evolved that far. Like the xenos are doing pretty good at this point on earth, there's no need to flood the place, it's safest to limit the pack size.
Now I'm imagining the kids all gathered amongst the stalactites out of sight of the research group and bruce is trying to not react while furiously hissing along the link to get out, what if you get CAUGHT?! And none of them are listening because they're not going to get spotted! (Damian nearly falls off a stalactite but steph catches him. Bruce nearly has a heart attack XD.)
Of COURSE they have beans! I'm pretty sure the canon variants do to! These guys might know about the goo but definitely not the true extent.
Unfortunately we don't have canon xeno anatomy or we'd know what those vent/spikes are for. 😔 I mean I'm having fun not knowing but I'm so curious. (echolocation organ go brrrrrrrrr)
If xey ever send a video of xem and B chatting over research back to xeir uni or whatever you just know their peer group is going to EXPLODE. Talking! Xenomorph! Sapient! Xenomorph! Kind! Xenomorph!!!! THE xenomorph is having tea and biscuits!!!!!
